


The Space Between

by Sherya



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Confessions, Could get lengthy!, Drama, F/M, Future Fic, I suck at tags OK?, I'm Sorry, M/M, Major Illness, Mutual Pining, Older Victor, Older Yuuri, Post-Canon, Rekindling, Romance, Suck at estimating how many chapters too just so you know, Yuuri's POV, doesn't mean they're boring, it comes out alright in the end I promise, right up front i'm so so sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-16
Updated: 2017-07-21
Packaged: 2018-11-14 17:05:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 33,639
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11212434
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sherya/pseuds/Sherya
Summary: In which years have gone by, and what happens post-post-canon. Where has life led them all? What kind of lives do they have? Now that they are older, what challenges do they face?And can love be found again, once it is lost?





	1. Saturday Evening/ Sunday Morning

**Author's Note:**

> A week in the life of Yuuri Katsuki, and we see what happened to the boys that we love, as well as their friends. 
> 
> Life has a way of taking things that you hold dear, and giving you what you least expect, just when you have started to expect nothing. Yes, there will be angst, yes there is illness, but stick with me- we will see a happy ending.
> 
> Hang on guys, it's going to be an interesting ride into the future of Yuuri and Victor.
> 
> The rating is mature, for right now, and may change. There is going to be at least 7 chapters but most likely a few more than that, we shall see. Please leave any comments or kudos, i would love to hear from you.

## Saturday evening

“Ota, I don’t know how you talked me into this. I have changed my mind.” Yuuri scowled over at his friend. “I don’t need a mini-break. I need to be working.”

“You need this. My friend, this is going to be relaxing. A whole week of time away from everything.” Ota has had to listen to the dithering for the past four hours. Yuuri wants to go. Yuuri wants to stay home. Yuuri has too many responsibilities to be taking a break, this far into spring. Back and forth, like a see-saw, and this is how Ota and the others know that Yuuri needs this break so, so badly. He looks over at his friend, takes in the bags under his friends eyes, the glum face he is making, the way he looks thinner now. Almost fragile. That was to be expected but still…

Yuuri looks over at his friend, then out at the water, and he exhales loudly. He does need this break, much as he didn’t want to admit it. And this is the best time, after all, the short lull between the old season and the new. He doesn’t want to admit why he really doesn’t want to have this break, though, and thank goodness Ota has never been the pushy one. If Yurio were here..

“You’re right. I know you are right. I just...feel tired a lot lately.” His shoulders slumped.

“Understandable.” Ota said quietly.

Yuuri did not want to have a conversation about this-he was sick of talking about _that_. He looked out at the vast expanse of the water, the distant foliage and rocky shoreline that they were headed towards and then closed his eyes with an upturned face, listening to the water lapping, and feeling the vibration of the ferry as it made it’s way through the gentle waves.

“So Ota, tell me again about this place.” Yuuri eyes are still closed and face still upturned, still hearing the waves lapping, feeling the ferry vibration, and a listening to a gull crying above them.

“It’s a small island property I found, and we bought around 10 years ago. There is a cabin on the property, it has running water, electricity, a really nice fireplace, flushing toilets,” He paused and grinned at that one, hoping for a smile from Yuuri, but Yuuri didn’t change expression. “Secluded, for sure. Yura’s idea.  ‘A place to get away, and be quiet in’ he says. Not fancy, but exactly what a person needs to take a break. We have come here off and on over the years, sometimes with the kids, but they don’t like it very much. _‘Not enough to do’_ they whine. Except Kat, she loves it.” Judging by the quiet pleased way Ota says this, Yuuri thinks Ota actually quite liked the whining.

Yuuri smiled at that name and looked over at his friend, the laugh-lines deepening around his eyes. “I bet Kat loves it here. I think she took after you Ota. My quiet little Katya-chan.” Ota chuckled. “Yura says that she took after _you_ actually. Never has a bad word to say about anyone, a child that knows so much more than she ever says, and feels so much more than she can express. She says to tell you hello and that she loves you, Katusuki-sama.” Now it was Yuuri’s turn to chuckle. He was reminded of when Kat was a small girl and she had been trying to impress Uncle Yuuri by giving him an honorific. The child had read about them and since Yuuri was her favorite uncle, she had thought this would be the best one to use. He had been so touched that she used one, and even though it was such an exalted one to use for her uncle, he hadn’t the heart to tell her that, (although when she was older Mari had). She had saved calling him this for special occasions over the years, and his eyes pricked a bit with the threat of tears. Seemed like anything would reduce him to this these days, if he held still long enough to think. That was why he had been driving himself as much as he could-well, when he was allowed. He cleared his throat. “Hard to believe she is what-15 now?” “Yes. Our youngest and the only one at home.” Ota looked a bit sad. “Time flies, you ever noticed that Yuuri? I know it is cliché, but it’s true. You blink once or twice, and children suddenly are grown and off to university or to their careers; you have more white in your hair, and lines on your face that you didn’t used to have, and time just flies.” Yuuri nodded. He resumed raising his face to the sky, eyes closed and listening to the call of the gulls.

*********

                Ota and Yuuri stepped off the ferry, Ota carrying Yuuri’s luggage, except the small duffle that Yuuri had slung over his shoulder. The island was only a few miles in distance from the much larger island that they had left a short time ago. This was the islands only dock; and the island wasn’t that large, it would probably only take 45 minutes to an hour for a leisurely walk around it from starting point to end.  The dock had a small boathouse; inside it a small inboard for cruising around. The dock led to steps that rose gently up the side of the hill and wound back into the oaks, and pines. Yuuri looked up above the tree line he could see the top of the cabin, and it wasn’t far away at all.

“You ok to walk, it isn’t far?” Otabek looked at Yuuri as if he were unsure. “Of course, I’m fine. Let’s go, Yurio is here, right? Is everyone else here yet?” Ota glanced sideways as they climbed the steps. “Yura’s here, but I don’t think anyone else is yet.” He continued, “Yura is probably going to read you the riot act about taking care of yourself; don’t say you haven’t been fore-warned. He did the grocery shopping yesterday and stocked the place with damn near anything you could ever want or need. He brought fresh sheets, blankets, pillows; you name it he brought it.” Otabek placed a hand on Yuuri’s forearm as they walked and Yuuri looked at him. “You know that is how Yura shows best that he cares. He loves you, and you should know that.” Yuuri smiled. He knew. Yurio had not lost a bit of the fire from his youth, but that fire had been refined, as age, a long-term happy marriage, and life experience will do. But he still wasn’t the best at expressing his caring verbally, and chose to let his actions speak instead. Not that he couldn’t use the rough side of his tongue early and often.

They came through the tall, close trees to the cabin, nestled in a small clearing. It was not overly large but looked comfortable; a log structure with a pointy pitched roof, and a chimney on the right hand side poking out at the top. It was a lovely dark color, with forest green shutters at the windows, and a wrap-around porch that looked as if it stretched all the way around. There was a porch swing with a colorful, cozy looking blanket draped on the back and dark green and red comfortable cushions. A small table book ended each side, and a bent willow rocking chair nearby.  Next to the two steps that led up to the porch, on either side were pretty wildflowers growing here and there. It looked so homey, and so right here, a perfect hideaway from the world.

“Ota, it’s charming!” Yuuri continued to gaze around at the flora and fauna, and now saw that there were warm lights shining from the windows. It was just beginning to turn to twilight, and the two men walked up the steps, onto the porch, and a trim handsome blonde opened the door and came out with his green eyes shining. “Katsudon! ‘Bout time you got here!” Yuuri smiled and embraced his friend. Yurio hugged back for a moment but became impatient. “Come on, come inside. Are you tired? Do you want to eat something?” Ota ushered the other two in the door, and Yuuri took a look around as Yurio waved his arm around. “Do you like it? It’s our quiet place.” The décor was in rich jewel shades. The room he was currently standing in had dark paneling, oversized couch and chairs, a coffee table made of driftwood and faced a huge stone fireplace, which was the biggest and best feature of the room. It had a thick and large dark green rug in front of it. The open floor plan to the kitchen showed a small table with four chairs, sink, stove and refrigerator all stainless steel. The counters were butcher-block, and the cabinets were gleaming dark pine. He could see a door leading to the backyard on the left of the kitchen, and a set of stairs leading up to the second floor.

“Yurio, I love it. I haven’t seen such a welcoming place.”

Yurio smiled. “Good. Ota will take your bags up to the loft and show you everything. Come back down when you are done, I am cooking something for you and it should be ready soon. You better like it, I have been cooking for a couple of hours. You look thin as hell and need to eat.” He frowned.

Yuuri grinned at his friend. “I am sure I will love it.” He followed Ota up the short flight of steps to the loft area, which was also open with only a railing. To separate it from the rest of the living space. Otabek was placing Yuuri’s bags next to the most comfortable bed he had ever seen, queen sized with warm, rich looking duvet and plenty of soft looking pillows. There was a window in the far wall looking out at the trees and water that was beyond. The walls had black and white photos of what appeared to be the island, trees, the shoreline, the dock. One large one depicted their family a few years back, their three children and Otabek in the boat, laughing at the children as the two oldest fished while the small Katya, with her dark wispy hair swirling around her face and shoulders and clear, serious eyes, curled up in the seat and reading a book, looked on with a dreamy smile and Yurio in the corner of the picture and close, holding the camera to get them all in the picture. Yuuri felt Otabeks eyes on him so he hastily turned from the pictures. Ota had been looking at him with a somewhat sad expression, as if sympathizing with Yuuri. Yuuri had not had children, although he always thought he would have. Instead he had students, and they were like his children. He loved them all.

“Did you want to rest, or do you want to come down and eat? I suggest coming down unless you want to catch hell.” Ota’s expression had changed to his usual stoic self although his eyes were twinkling.

“And risk the wrath of Yurio? No way I’m coming. Let’s eat.” They both went back down the stairs, and Yurio had already set the table and was bringing the food to it, setting down dishes filled with food. Yuuri sat down at the table and a very familiar smell assaulted him.

“Pirozkhis? Wait...” Yuuri’s eyes shone as he marveled at his friend. “ _Katsudon_ pirozkhis? Do you know how long it has been?” Yurio only smirked.

“Yeah, duh,  since the last time I made them for you! I tried and tried to teach you. You suck at pirozkhi making. Now eat.” They all sat down, enjoying the meal and making occasional small talk about Ota and Yurio’s children, and their work-Yuri’s ballet studio and Ota’s youth ice skating training camps. They spoke of everything and nothing; close friends comfortable with each other. Yurio griping about his lazy students and Ota glancing at him fondly, even after all this time the love was obviously strong and unshakeable.

Yuuri pushed away from the table. “I’m full, couldn’t eat more if I tried. Thank you so much Yurio, this was lovely. “

Yurio snorted and said, “You needed it. I can’t rightly call you piggy now, can I? You almost look like you could blow away. Damn, do I have to hire a cook for you so that you eat right? It pisses me off to think you aren’t taking care of yourself, Katsudon.” His eyes softened a bit and he softened his tone. “Yuuri.” Then he obviously felt he showed too much kindness and his voice sharpened. “So start eating more and resting more or I will kick your ass. And I am going to tell your students and your assistants to make sure you eat. Take care of yourself dammit.”

Yurio stood and started clearing the table. Yuuri started to help and was shooed to the living room by Yurio. “Go sit down talk to ‘Beka. The day I need your scrawny butt helping me clean my own kitchen is the day I figure out how to reach around and kiss my own ass. Out. Out!” Yuuri and Ota went into the living room, and Yuuri sighed as he sank down into the couch. Then a question dawned on him.

“Ota, um, this isn’t that big. Where is everyone going to sleep?” Yuuri looked around for other doors, although judging by the outside there couldn’t be much more cabin to this cabin.

“There is a room just there,” he pointed to a door under the stairs leading to the loft. “It is pretty good size, could sleep two. And then there is a room there.” He pointed to just in front of the staircase next to the front door. “it could easily sleep two as well. And this couch has a trundle underneath. Plenty of room.” Underneath Ota’s usual stoic demeanor, Yuuri detected something…off. As if Ota was uncomfortable with this line of questioning, but Yuuri let it pass.

Yurio soon joined them, and they chit chatted some more, as the twilight deepened outside and it started to become cool inside.

Ota stood up and went to the fireplace. “I’ll make a fire. Yura, would you make some coffee?” Ota was piling the wood in and looking for the matches on the mantle.

Soon a fire was going to chase the chill out, and they hugged their mugs of coffee. Yuuri asked, “So when are the others going to be here? If the only way here is by ferry, does the ferry make trips this late?”

Yurio looked at Ota and then looked at Yuuri and answered. “No, the ferry will make another trip in the morning to bring the others. The ferry is by-request, but the man who owns and runs it is picky about when he will bring people over and he doesn’t like running in the dark. Aren’t you tired Yuuri, you ready to hit it?” Gesturing to the loft.

Yuuri did feel tired. The trip had worn him out and that bed had looked very, very comfortable. “That sounds wonderful Yurio.” He smiled at his old friends. “I want to thank you for this, I am sure it will be a really good week, and it is so nice here. I am looking forward to seeing our friends, visiting with you all. We don’t often get to just be around each other and visit, it makes me happy.”

Yurio just looked at Yuuri with a small frown. “Well, right now you need to get to bed. Here give me your mug, unless you want to take it with you?”  Yuuri handed him the mug, told his friends good night, and went upstairs. He stripped down to his boxers and threw on a t-shirt from his case, then crawled under the blankets and sighed into the most comfortable bed he could remember being in. He put his glasses and phone on the bedside table and shut off the lamp. As he lay there and looked out the window at the starry sky and the breezes moving the treetops, he thought of the years that had passed; years of coaching talented young people, competition after competition, pushing them to reach farther than they ever thought they could, he had coached more than one Olympic champion. Katsuki Yuuri was a very well-known name in the business, not just for his success as a skater in his youth but as the coach that dominated with champion ice skaters. He had built a life and name for himself, but…at the same time, he often thought about the loneliness. He pushed that thought away, yawned, and fell asleep to the sound of the wind in the trees and in the distance, no more than a whisper really, the water and waves.

 

## Sunday Morning

Yuuri had evidently slept very, very well. He blinked open his eyes to the sunshine pouring in the window, and stretched. Just how late was it? He looked at his phone and saw it was already mid-morning. The bed was warm and comfortable, he didn’t want to leave it. But he could hear noises below, morning-type noises of pans and glass rattling, and soft murmuring. Yurio and Ota had evidently not wanted to wake him and were being as quiet as they could. He smiled, sat up and swung out bed.

Yuuri made the bed, and then rummaged in his case for some sweatpants, pulled them on and threw on his trackshoes. Shoving his glasses on and phone in his pocket, he went down the stairs to greet the day.

“Good morning friends.” Ota was cooking breakfast and Yurio was sitting at the table, his leg pulled to his chest and arms wrapped around it as he swung around from watching Ota and smiled at Yuuri.

“Good morning Katsudon! Sleep well?”

“You have no idea. That is the most comfortable bed! So what is the plan for the day? When is everyone going to get here?”

Yurio patted the chair next to him and Yuuri sat down, Yurio pushed a mug of coffee to him. “The ferry should be swinging through in around an hour or so. Hey, if you want to take a shower or something, it’s right through that door. Beka’s making us pancakes.” Yurio smiled and said in a stage whisper. “ _Well, he is trying to anyway._ “

“I heard that Yura.”

“I meant you to, Beka. You know you can’t cook worth squat. But I love to watch you try.” Yurio cackled as a dishtowel flew at his head. He grabbed it and put it on the table.

Yuuri just smiled and watched Yurio tease Ota, while Ota worked to make the breakfast. Soon it was done and Yuuri was scarfing down the pancakes. They were actually quite good, which made him suspect that this was just one of those domestic teasing games that Ota and Yurio played with each other.

Yuuri’s attention was then diverted to sounds outside. He could hear voices and people heading to the cabin.

“Sounds like they are here!” Yurio and Ota both swung around to the door, their teasing laughter gone and anxiety on both of their faces.

Yuuri did not notice, however, and hurried to the door. He swung it open, and his heart..stopped. And flipped over. _What in the hell?_

On the porch, hand raised as if to knock, stood Chris. His expression was one of apprehension although he was smiling at his friend. “Yuuri…hey. It’s great to see you!”

Yuuri didn’t hear Chris, because behind him stood a very beautiful man, with silver hair and the bluest blue eyes that Yuuri had never been able to forget. He was so familiar; and yet a stranger.

And Yuuri just stood there, unable to comprehend what he was seeing. He blinked. And blinked again, his expression blank and dazed.

The man stared back, with a nervous air and a hesitant smile. He almost looked afraid.

Chris looked at Yuuri and his expression changed from apprehension to concern. “Yuuri are you ok? Yuuri?”

The world was becoming blurry, tilted. Chris was out of focus, as was the man behind him. He felt cold, and his hands started to tingle. “V-Victor?” His voice was a whisper, a ghost.

And then the world tilted even more and Yuuri saw nothing.


	2. Sunday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri and Victor receive an explanation  
> Victor finds out a secret  
> Yuuri has deja vu

 

## Sunday Morning/Afternoon

He hears before he sees.

He hears... the gulls, the rise and fall of the gulls talking, calling.   

Eyes closed, he feels gentle touches at his head, his arm.

He is being lifted, carried. As he is being carried, the gull’s cries are now only human voices after all, and the words reach him.  

“Careful Chris-“

“He is so _light_ , should he be this light?”

“Bring him over here, on the sofa. Yura! Go up and grab his bag. Shouldn’t he have some medicine?”

“Dammit we need to ask him, I don’t know!”

Sounds of running up a stair, people talking all at once. He would open his eyes but he can’t. Lids too heavy, weight holding him down.

“Where are his glasses?”

“Over here on the floor. I have them.”

Someone close by, feeling his pulse lightly on his wrist. A gentle comforting hand patting his arm. A cool wet cloth on his forehead.

“Beka I have his small bag. There’s medicine but I don’t know a fucking thing about it! Should we call a doctor? Get the ferry?”

“Just get the bottles out, Yura, look and see if they have instructions. Chris could you get some ginger ale from the refrigerator, put some in a glass for me? And get a straw. They are next to the glasses in the cupboard.”

Flashes of light, dark, then light again rapidly, as he tries to blink his eyes open. His hand reaching out, feeling for who is there. Who is there?

“What is wrong? What is WRONG?”

“Victor, just please sit down. We will get this all sorted but we need to take care of him.”

“Why does he need taking care of? “

“Victor just sit down, it will be ok. Yuuri, Yuuri can you open your eyes for me? Can you talk? Tell me what you feel.”

Yuuri is able to open his eyes completely, the weight is lifting. He turns his head towards the voice and the dizziness from the movement makes his stomach lurch.

“Yuuri don’t move, just look at me and if you can, tell me how you feel.”

It is Ota looking down with worried eyes, and Chris face above him, also worried.

“I think...ok? Drink?”

Chris has a glass and he holds the drink down so that Yuuri can take sips, Yuuri was feeling a bit better, the nauseous feeling is fading as is the dizziness.

“No, don’t try to get up yet, Yuuri. Just take sips.” Yuuri takes the glass from Chris hands as he tilts his head up.

Chris is replaced by Yurios worried face. “Do you need to take any of your medicine? One says that you should be taking it once in the morning, what about the vitamins?”

“ ‘S alright Yurio. I take that one after breakfast and the vitamins I take at lunch. The other med is a morning one too so I can take it now.” He is mumbling but Yurio evidently catches it all because he can hear the bottles rattling. Pills shoved towards him, he takes them in hand looks them over (they are correct) and swallows them down.

“I can sit up now, I’m better.” Otabek helps pull him to a sitting position. “Where are my glasses?”

And his eyes land on him. Victor…is here.

Victor, huh.

Victor is holding Yuuri’s glasses, the look on his face shows that he has no idea what is going on, the frown line on his brow, concern in his eyes, he quickly gets up from his seat and brings them over, puts them in Yuuri’s hand. He doesn’t touch Yuuri,  instead he pulls his hands back and fidgets, hands twisting together on the ends of his jacket, as if unsure what to do with them. Yuuri looks down because that is easier, takes in the leather shoes, seeing the khaki trousers, cream colored sweater, blue jacket. Yuuris traveling gaze reaches Victors face, and meets his eyes. Victor is looking back, and the concern has deepened there. Ahh but Yuuri cannot hold that gaze, and he looks down again. The sudden stab, followed by the old familiar dull ache that has not left his heart- even after years, this new experience was twisting, biting into his heart and creating fresh pain on top of the old. Victor’s eyes, blue like the sky-that has not changed, although there are crinkles and laugh lines, fine but there. His eyes ( _my heart),_ Yuuri just can’t, and looks aside.

  
“Thanks.” Yuuri mumbles, and puts his glasses on, hands trembling, trembling. Everything he sees now brought into sharp relief, he takes in the aftermath of his faint. Yurio is still holding Yuuri’s med bag and standing in a position as if ready to run for whatever Yuuri might need next, Ota crouched down by the sofa, bracing Yuuri’s shoulder and watching him closely, Chris has retreated to the kitchen and trying to find something-anything- to be busy with, and then Victor, still standing as if rooted to the ground, oh, and isn’t he eating up Yuuri with his eyes, as if Yuuri’s presence is something he has wanted to see for a long, long time.  This confused Yuuri and it was too much for right now so his gaze skittered away as he tried to understand this hole in reality he had stepped into and make sense of it. All of their eyes were on him and it was making him even more nervous and uncomfortable.  
  
Except Chris, he noticed. Chris had a worried look, yes, but it was directed at Victor.

Yuuri cleared his throat, “I am sorry that scared you. Really, I feel much better I just…” _(Felt my world fall away and thought I was hallucinating)_ “got dizzy. Side effects of the medicine sometimes.”

And that got the world, or at least his piece of it, moving again. Yurio went to the counter and set the medicine down, then returned to Yuuri’s side. Chris leaned his elbow on the counter, then put his chin in his hand. Otabek stood up and sat down by Yuuri. Victor, at a loss and unsure what the next steps to take were, retreated to the chair he had been sitting in.

Yuuri, was absolutely floored all over again because his mind was wanting to reject this situation, so every time he glimpsed Victor that lurching feeling  like when he was dizzy, returned although it was milder. What was Victor doing here? Why?

“Um…what is going on here?” He looked over at Victor and then looked up at his friends, waiting for an answer.

Yurio and Ota both looked at Chris, who popped up from the counter and walked over to Victor, put his hand on his shoulder. Victor jumped and looked up at Chris with questioning eyes, looked just as lost as Yuuri felt.

“Yuuri, I am sorry. I thought we had some time to...but-“  Yurio looked at Ota, who turned to Chris.

“The ferry was early?” Ota queried Chris.

Chris nodded. “The ferryman said he could take us now or we would have to wait until evening, so we came.”

The shock was starting to wear off, and the first stirrings of anger were quickly replacing it. “Ok so the plan-I _thought_ \- was for Chris and Phichit to come and join us here so we could have a nice catch up and then a week of just relaxation? This wasn’t the plan I take it? Exactly _what_ do you think you are doing?” He directed his look at Yurio, wanting an answer.

But Victor had a question too, it seemed, directing it to Yurio and Chris, speaking slowly. “Are you telling me that he didn’t know I was coming? Am I understanding this right?” He looked at Yuuri. “You didn’t know I was coming?”

Yuuri shook his head, clenching his fists to try to control the anger that was building.

“We need to talk.” Yurio said flatly.

“What the hell-“

“Why did you tell me that Yuuri had wanted to see me?”

“–can someone explain this?”

“Supposed to be my _friends_.”

Both Victor and Yuuri were talking at once, the hurt and anger on both sides bubbling over.

“Thought you guys were my FRIENDS-“

“Didn’t realize I was coming here to be some kind of sick surprise-“

“STOP!” Yurios voice cut through them all, both Victor and Yuuri sputtered to silence. Yurios face set in a firm expression. “We can explain everything to both of you if you would just listen. Yuuri, please, I know you are upset with us and I will explain, but after what happened, you need time to take this all in. Vitya I am sure you do too. Let’s just take a bit to regroup.”

Chris tapped Victors shoulder. “I think that’s best. Victor let’s take a walk for just a bit, ok?” Victor stood up, eyes wounded and posture angry. “Fine.” He spat that out, visibly upset with Chris and the others. Chris sighed. “Just walk with me for a bit ok?” Once more Victor stole a glance at Yuuri, then looked at the floor, hands at his sides and curled into fists. Without another word or look back he stalked through the door, Chris hurrying behind him.

Yuuri had been holding his breath, and he exhaled shakily in rush. The tears were now in his eyes, and he didn’t know if they were because he had fainted, or because his friends had betrayed him in this bizarre manner, or because, after years, he had been near Victor again. The tears dripped down onto his trembling hands. Dammit.

“Yuuri, will you look at me, please?” Yurio’s voice was gentler but still firm. Yuuri buried his head in in hands. “Yuuri.” Yurio crossed the room and knelt by Yuuri, put a hand on his knee. “Yuuri, I am sorry that this happened this way. I knew that if we told you we were bringing Victor here you wouldn’t come.” Yuuri blazed up at this, pulling his head from his hands to accuse. “You are damned right! What the hell is this? I thought I was coming here to meet up with old friends and relax. Instead you bring-“ Yuuri waved a hand in the direction of the door, “and you actually thought that was going to be ok?”

“We fucked up, okay? We fucked up and I’m sorry. But we didn’t do it to be cruel, we didn’t do it to be mean! There are reasons.” Yurio was pleading now, and Yuuri sat back on the couch, rubbing his eyes with his palms.

“I thought I had a bit more time to tell you that he was going to be here shortly, to prepare you so that you would at least know he was coming. The ferry came early.”

“Couldn’t tell me before?” he spat.

“Would you have stayed?” Yurio shot back.

Yuuri just sat with his hands over his eyes. He sighed. “So I take it Phichit isn’t coming, then?”

“He wanted to, had planned to, but the plans fell through. He is going to call you and make new plans to get together. He is trying to get the new show off the ground and something happened, big setback or something.” Yuuri and Ota continued to sit with him, both watching him closely.

He laughed, but it was shaky and joyless. “So I suppose someone is going to explain all this soon?”

Ota’s turn to speak. “Yes, Yuuri, it will be explained but right now we need to know how you feel. The last thing we meant was for you to be hurt or to make you feel unwell. How do you feel?” Ota’s voice was calm, soothing. Yuuri was feeling more capable.

“I don’t feel too bad now.  I’d be lying if I said I was fine, you have to know that.”

“Of course. But we just want to make sure you don’t need a doctor or something.”

“No, I don’t.”

“Good. Now just sit back and I will bring you some more ginger ale, and another cool washcloth. Becka, are there still some pancakes left, maybe?”

*****

After a while, Chris and Victor came back inside and sat down, Chris apprehensive, Victor unsmiling and obviously still angry with a stiff, defensive posture. _Chris had talked him into coming back? How? He couldn’t_ want _to be here?_

 Neither man would look at each other. Yurio and Otabek came in from the kitchen and sat down as well. The tension was high, making Yuuri’s anxiety rise.

“Well, who wants to start explaining?” Yuuri finally broke the silence, rubbed his forehead, thinking how he just wanted this over with- wanted to be anywhere but here.

Yurio began. “We have been thinking about this for a while, discussing whether to do it. The reason behind it is simple. Neither one of you have ever gotten past this, past each other. And we are fucking done with it. It’s way past time for this to happen.”

Yuuri felt shocked from the blunt, brutal words. He had avoided this subject every time his friends would try to bring it up. They knew that he wouldn’t talk about Victor. He glanced at Victor very quickly, and Victor was very still, mouth hanging open. Humph, shock to him to then. Well they had another thing coming if they thought this was acceptable.

“I don’t see why this is any of your business!”

“Glad you all took it upon yourselves to make this decision for me!”

“I’m not a child you know-“

Yurio held up his hands at both of them. “ENOUGH! Enough. I am going to tell you exactly what you both need to hear and you better damn well listen. “Eyes throwing sparks, red cheeked and angry. It had been a long time since any of them had seen Yurio so untethered.

He turned to Yuuri and pointed at him. “You have been a mess, and don’t deny it. For years you have suffered and held it inside. Work-work-work, pushing and driving yourself. No don’t interrupt me, you know it’s true- why deny it? You haven’t been truly _you_ in more years than I care to remember! And why? Because you have never moved on from _him._ ” Yurio pointed at Victor. Then his eyes shifted to Victor. “And you- you are no better. Pining over someone for years- and being ridiculous about it, always a new guy on your arm, always a next ‘adventure’, we all know why. You didn’t move on either.” His gaze shifted between the two.

“Both of you have been caught on this and can’t break loose. For. YEARS. We all know it! We ALL see it!” Yurio indicated Chris, Otabek, himself. “Neither one of you have been whole. Neither one of you ever want to talk about it either. Change the subject or you bull up and cut us dead for bringing it up. And now, with Yuuri’s illness returning, we thought it was time for this shit to stop. Enough. Because you don’t know if you will get another chance. ”

Yuuri started to talk, but one look from Yurio squelched it. “No, I don’t want to hear it. And neither do either of them. I am going to lay down some _facts_ for you to think about. And you WILL think about it.”

He swung his gaze to Victor.

“Victor, Yuuri has been very ill. It has been kept from the press, and a secret from damn near everyone except his students, his staff, and his friends. That is why he looks like a god-damned scarecrow. It is _serious_ , and he has been battling it for a while.” Now he swung to Yuuri. “I know you didn’t want me to tell anyone, but that’s just too damn bad. We told Victor that we were all getting together, a reunion of sorts and that you would be here and were fine with it. We tricked him into coming and I don’t feel one damn bit bad about it. Do you hear me? I don’t. Because you need this.”

“Both of you.”

“So this is how it is going to get sorted. You two are going to talk. You are going to say the things that need saying so you can bury the past, close the door-whatever- just pick the fucking phrase that you like best. Because this...this...” Yurios eyes filled with tears and his voice broke. Otabek placed his arm around him.  “This could be your last chance, don’t you get it? FUCK!” he angrily swiped his eyes and turned away. “You are both my family. And I am not going to watch this go on for one more day!”

“Yes, we lied to get you both here. And we’d do it again.” Chris nodded in agreement.

Yuuri looked over at Victor, and saw that he must have felt the same way as Yuuri, dazed and shocked into silence.

Chris spoke. “Victor, my friend, I’m sorry, but it has been years of watching you hang onto this pain.”

Ota, still holding Yurio said, “It has hurt us all to see you both hurting. It’s time, don’t you think? If nothing else, for you two to talk, settle it? Stop wasting your lives.”

Yuuri hung his head. Years ago he had taken that pain, emotion, love, sadness and anger and stuffed it away in a corner of his heart. Now he felt raw, hurt. Stung by his friends actions but he knew that what Yurio had said to him, was at least partially true. That didn’t make it easier to hear.

“So here is the deal, boys.” Chris said, looking levelly between them both. “You are both going to work it out. Yurio, Ota and I are leaving.”

Yuuri and Victor both looked up at him, startled.

Yurio picked up where Chris left off. “The island is here for as long as you need it. I suggest that you stay at least long enough to talk to each other. Sort things out. There’s always the ferry, but it runs only once and sometimes twice a day, although he will take a by-request if there is an emergency. We are going to stay at a hotel on the big island.”  


Yuuri could not have been hearing this right. No no no no-

“Everything that you need is here. We can’t _make_ you stay, but I suggest you do. For as long as it takes.”

*****

## Sunday Evening

Yuuri and Victor were standing on the dock, watching the ferry make its way back across the water. Their friends were leaving, and they were...here. With each other. They stood a few feet apart, both staring at the ferry. Yuuri could see Victor out of the corner of his eye, hands stuffed in his pockets and an unreadable expression on his face.

Earlier after an uncomfortable meal where only Chris and Ota spoke, Yuuri had sat on the bed of Ota and Yurios room as they were packing up and getting ready to go. “You really think this is a good idea? You really think this is going to solve anything? You can’t leave me here alone.” Yurio just kept packing.

“You aren’t going to be alone.” Ota said simply.

“I don’t want to be here.” Yuuri protested.

Yurio said, “Then leave.” He shrugged as he picked up his bag and turned to him. “We’re not making you stay. But, Katsudon, you are going to regret it if you do.” He sighed and pulled Yuuri in, hugged his friend and whispered, “Don’t leave though, please. At least stay long enough to make amends, to let this go, okay?” Yuuri couldn’t help but be reminded of the young teenager that Yurio once was, fire one moment and tender the next.

Yuuri whispered quietly, “I don’t know what to say to him. Don’t have anything to say.”

Yurio whispered back, “Yes you do.”

And now, as evening had set in, they were watching the ferry get smaller and smaller.

Finally, they both turned and headed back up the stairs through the trees, to the cabin. Once inside, Victor went straight to his room and shut the door. Yuuri trudged up the stairs to his loft room, sat down on the bed, thinking about how many nights at the end of their relationship had been just like this. Going to separate rooms and not speaking. It was a depressing sort of déjà vu. A memory bubbled up, a flash- Victor sitting with his elbows on his knees, head down with his hands buried in his hair. Yuuri at the window, shaking and tired from the argument. Victors voice flat and lifeless, “It’s over. It’s really over, isn’t it?” And Yuuri hadn’t said anything because Victor had voiced what he had been dreading to face. He hadn’t said a damn thing to stop it, just trembling in the silence that followed, his heart screaming to say SOMETHING ANYTHING until Victor had thrown himself up out of the chair and walked out of the room.

_I can’t do this. I have nothing to say. If we had anything to say to each other we would have said it long ago._

He got up, stripped down pulled the blanket down, and curled up underneath it. Too much had happened and he was exhausted. So many thoughts had whirled through his mind today, emotions running through him and creating havoc. After twelve years, what did their friends expect? They were hardly more than strangers now, Victor was just in his past, his _used-to-be_ , nothing more than that, right?

But then he remembered what Yurio had said to Victor. How true was what that? Victor had not moved on from Yuuri, was it true? _Can’t be. Can’t be._ _He hadn’t denied it though. Unless he was so in shock with what was happening that he didn’t hear Yurio?_ Victor must have stayed merely out of obligation to his friends, or pity for Yuuri, maybe? Not because he still cared. No, they were strangers and too many years had gone by-his friends were well-meaning but mistaken.

_But if that is so, if they were strangers at this point, why did his heart ache so? How could it still hurt so much- a blow with a force that takes his breath away?_

He burrowed further down in the bed, and looked out the window at the trees, but didn’t see them. He was seeing back through the years to the time when they were together and every day was a miracle simply because he could be with him. Being so in love, so close to him, that he didn’t know where he ended and Victor began? And he had been mercifully unaware of how precious that time was.

 _And now I am middle-aged, I am not the young man I was. Maybe we can do as our friends say, have it out, and bury the past peacefully and move on._ Could he really? And this hurt more than anything else, the idea that it really could be final. Painful as it was to admit, part of what had held him together all these years was the memory of a time when he was happy, when he loved without limits. _It isn’t possible to recapture something like that, with anyone, anywhere. Lightening in a bottle. I knew that-and I would never settle for anything less. THAT is why I am alone to this day._

Yuri sobbed, and quickly covered his mouth so it would not be heard in the silent cabin. And now the tears were falling on the pillow.

_I didn’t know then, I was so foolish to fall that deep, and just as foolish to let it go. But we were too different. Life pulled us apart. It was not meant to last. Nothing that damn perfect lasts._

Yuuri cried, silently, his shoulders shaking, his exhaling is coming in silent unvoiced wails, his vocal chords straining from holding back. Every time he had cried for the loss of Victor, he had sworn he would not do so again, until eventually, he did stop. Years had gone by, he had held himself to that vow, until now.

Eventually exhaustion won, and as sleep claimed him, drifting off with a small, childish plea-

_Help me, please help me._

With no idea who he was asking.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Yuuri, poor Victor. I don't know which one I feel sorry for more.
> 
> A couple of things:  
> If you all know these boys, you know that they really suck at expressing how they really feel. Yeah, the more things change..  
> Yes they are older, but speaking from experience, when you get older you are still the same silly idiot on the inside that you were when you were in your twenties and you still make mistakes.
> 
> I will include a few songs from my playlist with every chapter, one because I think it might give some insight to the story, but also because I try to share the music that I love with others.
> 
> Here are a few songs from my TSB writing playlist [here](https://youtu.be/3M_nprZQXBQ) and [here](https://youtu.be/utXz08ICZg4) and one of my absolute favorites [here](https://youtu.be/Oextk-If8HQ)


	3. Monday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri remembers  
> Victor and Yuuri go for a walk  
> Ota's apron  
> An epic battle of skill

## Monday

_If someone asked Yuuri to pinpoint when it began to fall apart, he would say that it wasn’t just one day, it was a thousand and one things, it happened over time. But_ this _memory stands out, clear as the day it happened. He’s coming out of the shower, running through the FS in his head...it’s ambitious, and he is a bit nervous, Victor had choreographed a knockout program. It has 6 triples, and he felt confident for his Jun, up until this morning but now- he isn’t so sure. As he towels his head he walks into the kitchen to ask Victor if he thinks they should change it up. Victor isn’t there, so he goes to the kitchen, then the rest of the flat and Victor is not there. He goes to the coat rack by the door, and Victors coat is gone. They used to leave each other notes when they had to run out somewhere, with little hearts or smilies, other little silly doodles, but there is no note. Again. He picks up his phone and texts. “Where are you?” Hits send and takes his phone with him to get dressed. He has to be at the rink in 20 minutes...if he leaves now he can just get there in time. He has to go, he can’t NOT be there. Yakov is just a phone call away, but he isn’t the coach, Yuuri is and Yakov was available to support for consultation only, as he had retired and transitioned the students that were left to Yuuri over the past few years. They have to be on a plane tomorrow, Jun and Yuuri need this time. No answer from Victor. He texts again. “Victor?” And now he is putting his coat on. Grabs his phone on the way out and hits the sidewalk running. Resends the text. Nothing. He gets to the rink and tries to concentrate on Jun, who is skating well, Yuuri really thinks Jun could get gold in his first juniors competition. The first student that is entirely his own, the first competition with his first student. Anya, his assistant skates over, concerned. “Where’s Victor?” Yuuri shrugs. “Dunno. Guess he had some last minute things to do.” Anya frowns. “You feeling good? Jun looks really good. Victor should be here to see it.” Yuuri just plasters a smile on his face. “Nah, it’s ok. I got this.” Anya’s frown deepens and she isn’t fooled. “Yuuri, is everything ok with you two?” Yuuri sighs. “It’s ok. He just has a lot going on right now, and getting a lot of interest from all over for his choreography. He has to give it as much attention as he can.” Anya pats his shoulder, but doesn’t say more. He gives some last minute instructions to Jun, sees him out of the rink and tells him to get rest. He leaves the rink and back home he goes. No Victor. He walks Vikkachin, comes back and gets out the ingredients for the dinner he is making. They had a few anniversaries they celebrated throughout the year, and this one is for Yuuri moving in with Victor. It is an important one to Yuuri as his whole life had changed that day. He is going to prepare Katsudon and then baked apples for dessert; a combination of Japan and Russia that he makes every year. The dinner is made, and ready. Now it is late, and Yuuri’s anxiety is in overdrive and the nagging questions start to whisper in his head. Where is Victor? He needs him to be here. Doesn’t he remember this anniversary? Maybe he should change up what he makes for this anniversary, something different? Yuuri had marked it on the calendar with a funny sticker as all of their special days are marked. But Victor had seemed preoccupied all week. Victor missed the practice, maybe-maybe he should take a quad out, that is one of the things they rehearsed for- a just in case. Victor, where are you? Was Victor losing interest? Yuuri had not voiced this question, not even to himself before, knowing it wasn’t true. That’s silly, your being stupid Yuuri! But…was he? Yuuri is crying now, the anxiety has taken over full blown for the first time in years. He is trying the breathing exercises that he remembers so he doesn’t hyperventilate, shaking and sweating, heart doing the thud-thud that always happens with the anxiety attacks. Crying and exhausted, eventually- finally- falls asleep on the sofa, Vikkachin at his feet. He wakes to the sound of the door, and Victor is home. Yuuri wearily stands up, and turns to face him. Victor says, “Sorry it’s so late, but I had an early meeting to go over some choreography ideas with some clients, and then we had lunch, and they introduced me to some of their other friends who are interested and more ideas got thrown out there, next thing I knew, time got away from me, but I think this is going to take off even bigger, Yuuri! This is it!” He is taking his coat off, tugging off a glove with his teeth and looks around, notices how silent it is. Yuuri says nothing. Victor glances over at the table and sees the it is set, two plates, wine glasses, two candles that burned down to the nubs. He turns to face Yuuri with a confused look. “What’s this?” Yuuri asks, “Do you have your phone?” Victor feels his pocket. “Yes, I- oh I missed your messages. I just got wrapped up-“ Yuuri hugs himself, making himself smaller. “Yes you are wrapped up quite a bit these days. I’m going to bed, big day tomorrow.” Yuuri refuses to look at him, passes by him to their bedroom. Victor follows, upset now and defensive. “Yuuri, I couldn’t pass this chance up. If I want to pursue choreography I have to meet with people, discuss ideas, and hear what they want.” Yuuri is putting a t-shirt and sweats on with jerking, angry movements. “I’m not stopping you.” Victor crosses the room to him, puts his hand to Yuuri’s cheek. “Aren’t you being unreasonable?” Victor is speaking gently, but all Yuuri hears is a patronizing tone, and it reinforces Yuuri’s hurt and anger. Victor sighs and drops his hand. “Yuuri, I’m sorry. Oh-” and now his eyes widen with memory. “I missed the practice! Yuuri I’m sorry, I should not have-“ Yuuri gets in bed, shuts off the lamp. “Doesn’t matter. Jun had a good practice, I got this. Night.” And he his barely whispering now because if he tries to speak he will cry again. Victor slumps, he knows when Yuuri is this upset that continuing to try to talk would make it worse. He looks down at his phone scrolls through the messages. All from Yuuri. Asking where he is, is he coming to practice? What about dinner? And finally the last one. “I need you.”_

_Victor reflexively reaches his hand out to the small curled form in the bed, but turns and goes to the dining table, sits, moves the dishes out of the way and stares down at his phone, then out the window to the night sky. He slaps a hand down on the table, but makes no move to get up._

_“Happy anniversary.” Yuuri whispers to himself, choking back a sob._

_A few years after, they had parted ways. There were times of being good, of being wonderful; and also times of arguments, slammed doors, freezing silences, and hot words. Storming out of the flat, out of the rink, Yuuri, Victor, or both, coming back and apologizing and making up. Years of shorter periods of happiness, longer periods of arguing and freezing silence, trying to stay together, still desperately hanging on to the love for each other over the gulf that widened and widened until it was too much to bear. When he looks back, he isn’t sure if he was in the wrong, or if his anger was justified on that day. Or all the thousand and one days in between. Victor had had a future to work towards as well and Yuuri could have been more understanding and supportive- shouldn’t he have been? Jun had been Yuuri’s student after all, not Victor, and Yuuri was a coach and could handle it himself. But that hadn’t been the point to the younger Yuuri. It was his first official time as_ Coach _without anyone else, and he had wanted, expected Victor to be there for all the milestones. This hadn’t been the first time he had resented Victor’s passion for pursuing his work and it hadn’t been the last, every time he felt the resentment, it was followed by shame for doing so. Right or wrong, this is where Yuuri marked the beginning of the end._

_The day Yuuri was diagnosed the first time, he had walked around in a daze, up streets, down streets, sitting on benches, walking some more, memories had come of Victor and himself- laughing, loving, and also falling apart, replaying over and over until he was too tired to walk anymore, to think anymore. At that point it had been years over, but that is what came to him, when he wasn’t sure if the disease would take him, when he didn’t know what the future held-if anything- for him._

Yuuri had woken early, from a night of uneasy dreams spurred by sad memories. He grabbed some clothes and went down the stairs. Victor was already up and sitting at the table drinking coffee, looking at a picture on the wall and an unsmiling expression. Yuuri said, keeping his voice neutral as possible, “Good morning.”  Victor replied in just as neutral of a tone, “Morning.” Yuuri stood for a bit, unsure of what to say next. “I’m going to take a shower, unless you-?” Victor looked at him with a small smile. “I have a restroom off my room, so feel free.” Yuuri excused himself and went into the restroom. He felt grubby from the traveling to get here, and not showering the day before. He looked into the large mirror over the sink and sighed. Hair wild all over the place, eyes puffy from the crying the night before. Victor had looked beautiful this morning, hair perfectly in place, casual clothing draped over his fit frame and making him look fantastic.

 ( _He would be damned if he was going to have Victor see him looking like_ this _for one minute longer, and double damned if he would ever have admitted that thought to anyone)_

Yuuri showered, and then was taking his time with his appearance. He ran the tips of his fingers over his laugh lines around his eyes, and although they hadn’t bothered him before, were they more pronounced than he thought? Yuuri then ran a comb through his hair, he had never managed to tame it over the years and there was added grey here and there to boot. _Sigh_. He had tried longer hair several years ago but didn’t like the fuss-and and he didn’t think he could pull it off. How does Victor still manage to look so _(beautiful)_ perfect?

Yuuri came back to the living area and looked around; Victor was no longer at the table, but he noticed there was a mug of hot tea set out. Victor didn’t drink tea, so he knew this was for him. He smiled to himself in spite of the nervousness, picked up the tea and went to the living room.  Sat down, picked up a magazine, put it back down again. Wondered where Victor had gone. He didn’t have to wonder for long. Victor came out of his room, sat down across from Yuuri. Picked up the same magazine that Yuuri had set down and began to flip through it.

“Thank you for the tea.” Yuuri smiled hesitantly. Victor looked up at him, smiled. “Of course. A bit of milk, no lemon. That hasn’t changed, da?” Yuuri smiled wider. “No, still the same. Creature of habit, that’s me.” Victor resumed flipping through the magazine.

This gave Yuuri a chance to study Victor over the rim of his mug. He really did still look just as beautiful. Other than some laugh lines, and a tiny, almost undetectable bit of softening in his features here and there, but the years had been kind to him. He had a similar hairstyle that he had worn in his youth, and it was very flattering, reminded him of their time together, and he felt a pang in his heart.

Just then Victor put the magazine down and looked up at Yuuri.

“Yuuri?” Oh, it had been a long time since he heard that voice pronounce his name. Victor’s accent hugging over the word, and stretching it out, making it sound exotic. _Yuu-ri._

“Hmm?” He tried to arrange his face in a neutral expression, hiding behind the mug.

Victor looked as if he was trying to figure out the best way to ask something difficult.

_Penny’s in the air…_

 “What has happened, you are…unwell?” Victor asked softly.

_And the penny drops._

His head tilted slightly, Victor still had the trick of making the person he spoke to feel as if they were the most important person in the world.

“Yes. Cancer.” There was no easy way to say it, might as well be blunt. “I was treated, and they thought they got it all. Then a few months ago, I wasn’t doing well and we did more tests. It has returned. I finished my last round of treatment about two weeks ago.” _Last round of treatment…I hope. What he didn’t mention was collapsing during a students practice and that is how they found out it was back, Yuuri had been putting off an appointment due to the time crunch of his coaching. The ambulance, the frantic phone calls. The fear when realized he was in the hospital again. And the fear that it would not be a secret anymore, it would get out to the press. Would people feel he couldn’t coach anymore?_

Victor’s eyes widened slightly, and he looked down at his hands. “So, you are recovering then? You will be well soon?”

Yuuri looked down. “I don’t know for sure- yet. I had to have some more testing done the day before yesterday and I will hear about the results at the end of this week.” _And the doctor wasn’t as optimistic this time, not this time. It had come back, he thought it was over but it came back. Please, oh please let it be gone, let it be done._

Victor continued to look down at his hands, nodding. “Are you weakened right now? Should you be wearing a mask, or I don’t know...” he looked up and around the room as if he could find the answers there, then looked at Yuuri, eyes careful. “Should you be taking precautions for your immunity?”

“No actually, I am past that point. That is usually only the first few days. As far as weakened, well yes, I am somewhat. They are using the newest methods of treatment, and it isn’t as tough as the old treatments but it can still sap your energy. I am taking supplements, and some medicine to help with the side effects. But my side effects medicines have side effects too.” He tried to make light of it. “I get dizzy easily, and my appetite is suppressed.”

Victor nodded, as if something had clicked that he had not understood before. “That’s why you are so thin and why you fainted.” Yuuri let that pass without comment, since he was pretty sure the dizzy spell in no small part was the shock of seeing Victor again. _I don’t want your pity, could stand anything but that._ But he wasn’t looking at Yuuri with pity, and his eyes were kind and worried.

“Yuuri, I wanted to ask, but I don’t want to upset you.” He looked up at him, as if for permission. Feeling that nothing could make him more flustered and vulnerable than the past couple of days already had, he nodded.

“Your illness, people stand a chance of, well, some people do not survive? In spite of treatments?”

_Ahh, hmm._

“Well, it can be. That is why I am hoping that the news of the tests is that I am clear.”

Victor’s face became very, very still. His jaw clenched, twitched, one of his tells. Victor was upset and trying not to show it. Yuuri remembers this well. “I see.”

“So I am supposed to be taking it easy, resting when I tire, eating healthy. Last night Yurio made me pirozkhis, I don’t think I will tell my doctor about that one.” He chuckled and Victor’s tension broke, he smiled.

Yuuri wanted to change the subject. If Victor had not felt pity for him yet he probably did now and he could not stand to think about that. He asked him a question that was neutral ground, one you could ask anyone, that wasn’t too personal.

“So, how are you? How is work going?” He knew that Victor’s choreography was the most sought after in their business. His work had created a revolution in skating for artistry, his programs were always fresh and new, and unparalleled. Yuuri’s skaters had not ever worked with him.

“It’s going well. I travel quite a bit for it. Well, you know that already.” Realizing that this comment could take them into awkward country, he rushed on. “I love the challenge of creating something new every time.” Victor smiled. “And how does the coaching go? I read that you have a new student?” _He keeps up with my life?_

Yuuri blinked. “Yes, Aliyah, a girl with a lot of promise and raw talent. She is entering juniors this year, from the USA actually. She just came to me a few months ago. She is so good technically, so good. But I am concentrating more on her artistic side. She has that spark, but like many young ones it is the jumps she wants to sink her teeth into. We will get there.”

They made small talk about their work, the people that they worked with, and other inconsequential topics about their business in general. Yuuri was surprised at how much Victor knew about his life and the milestones he had reached. He figured that Victor would not know so much, would not have followed the happenings of his life like this. Yuuri wasn’t sure how to feel about that, it was confusing. Of course, Yuuri had followed Victor’s career and public life, but…

Silence fell between them eventually and the nervousness returned full force. Yuuri wanted to speak, to say _something_ , but he didn’t know what to say. Like an actor in a play that had not been given a script. Victor was gazing at him again, head tilted, eyes sparkling, a bemused smile playing on his face. It made Yuuri feel uncomfortable, hot and cold at the same time, fluttery butterfly wings in his abdomen.

“What?” Yuuri asked him, could stand the silence no longer.

 Victor shook his head, smiled bigger. “Katsuki Yuuri, the ‘maker of champions’.” Victor marveled.

*****

Yuuri had just washed his mug and put it in the strainer to dry, when Victor came into the kitchen. “Yuuri, would you like to go for a walk with me? I thought it would be nice to look around outside a bit.” Victor said this casually. “I mean, you don’t have to if you don’t want to-“

“No, I mean yes, sure.”

Victor looked relieved. “Ok then.”

“Ok.”

They stood.

Yuuri said, “I think we have to actually walk now.” Victor laughed, and held his hand out towards the door. _After you._ And so Yuuri went.

They walked in silence at first. Then Victor started naming some of the plants and flowers that were scattered here and there across the path that had been established, winding through the trees, sometimes closer to the water, sometimes further away.

“How do you know so much about plants?”

Now walking side by side as the path had widened here, Victor explained.

“I was in Mexico years ago, and I was lucky enough to be there for the Day of the Dead celebrations. My clients insisted that we go to the local festival, and in one spot of the public gardens, there was this explosion of beautiful gold flowers- the Mexican Marigold. The guide had told us that this flower was important to the holiday, and also told this really sweet legend behind the flower. I had not thought about flowers having stories or legends about them. And so over the years, as I traveled I would look up the local flowers or plants that I would see to identify them, and so often you do find that there are stories behind them. It fascinated me.” Yuuri must have had a strange look on his face because Victor colored with embarrassment. “And now you know just how little of a life that I have outside of my work.” Yuuri had been listening, captivated, and being reminded of times when Victor had read stories aloud to Yuuri, translating Russian fables and fairytales from books or just telling them from his memory. He had always loved to listen to him read stories or tell tales because Victor had the knack of drawing you in with his voice and bringing the stories to life. From ferocious growls to soft whispers, he had that gift of the storyteller. Yuuri realized he had been staring at Victor and had zoned out-his turn to blush. So he looked back at the path, cleared his throat looked away and said, “I think it sounds interesting.”

Further ahead, the path was narrowing and Victor ushered Yuuri gently in front of him as he continued to talk. “I have thought about having a small greenhouse, but it just wouldn’t be practical. Maybe someday.” Yuuri stumbled a little over a root of one of the trees beside the path. Victor immediately steadied him by taking his elbow and putting a hand to his waist. Yuuri looked up to smile thanks and caught a flash of –worry?- in Victors face before it settled into a polite smile. “Are you tired Yuuri? I could find us somewhere to sit.” Yuuri shook his head. “No, I just tripped. Leave it to me, I think my feet seek out things to trip over.” He grinned. Victor grinned back. “I remember. Except when you dance or skate. Then you are the most graceful thing I have ever seen.” And now Yuuri’s face is heating, all the way to his ears. Victor must have felt he said too much, as he removed his hands from him and stuffed them in his pockets. “Ahh, we can head back to the cabin now, I think, just through there should take us back quickly don’t you think?” Yuuri nodded in agreement, still feeling the ghost-warmth of Victor’s hands at his elbow and on his waist.

*****

“Did he think that we were going to be here forever?” Victor was staring in the freezer, baffled by the amount of food that was there. Many containers of homemade meals, all ready to pop in the oven and bake. They had discovered the refrigerator was full of fresh fruit, vegetables, meats, and the cupboards contained every kind of pasta, grains, and noodles known to man. Rows and rows of canned goods. Yuuri was sitting at the counter, peering in as well. “I had no idea he was such a cook!” Yuuri laughed. “He probably hired someone to do it. Unless he roped Ota into it. Can’t you see Ota in an apron that says ‘kiss the cook’?” They both snickered. “No his apron would say “Hot Stuff!”  Laughing even harder, Victor said, between giggles, holding up an index finger. “No, I’ve got it. I’ve got it. Ota’s apron is frilly lace and it says TROPHY WIFE!” And both of them hooted, Yuuri with his forehead on the counter pounding his fist, and Victor doubled over. After they settled down, Victor pulled a foil container out of the refrigerator. “How does lasagna sound?” Yuuri, who had removed his glasses during the laughing fit, squinted at it. “How do you know its lasagna?” With a deadpan expression, Victor tilted the container forwards and brought it to Yuuri so he could see it. On the cling wrap covering there was a piece of tape that was neatly lettered “LASAGNA.” And in a larger messier scribble just below it, “EAT IT IDIOTS, IT’S REALLY GOOD!” This sent them into another stream of giggles. “W-well we have to make it now.” Yuuri sputtered. As Victor put the lasagna in the oven to heat, Yuuri was chopping some vegetables for the salad. This started a chain of do-you-remembers.

“Do you remember the time you wanted to make baked caramelized onions and the pan caught on fire?”

“Yeah that was fun explaining to the fire department.”

“I didn’t call them, the neighbor did.”

“Yes because you were screaming ‘FIRE!’”

“Those poor firefighters.”

“Hey I offered them some of the onions.”

“Remember when Javier was in town and we had him over for dinner and his date was allergic to shrimp? I have never seen such big lips in my life.”

“How about the time Chris made dinner for us and the-”

“OH YUCK sautéed celery and pine nuts!”

“Oh but Chris insisted ‘these are aphrodisiacs, you will loooove them.”

“Yeah if something that tasted like washing soap is your idea of an aphrodisiac!”

“His heart was in the right place.”

“That wasn’t his heart.”   

“Do you remember when we had dinner with Yurio, Yakov, and those potential sponsors and Yakov had toilet paper stuck to his shoe?”

“OH God yes and we were trying not to draw attention to it.”

“I know! And I was pinching your leg so you wouldn’t just break up in laughter and make it worse!”

“You’re telling me-I think I still have the marks to this day you were pinching so hard!”

“I didn’t realize how painful it could be to hold in laughter!”

“And then Yurio walked in, points down and said “Hey old man are you saving that for later?”

“I remember beating it out of there with you as soon as we could!”

“Still wonder what happened after that? I never had the courage to ask.”

“I thought I was going to laugh until my sides split.”

“I was in TEARS!”

Yuuri put the salad on the table; Victor set the plates and flatware. Both with smiles on their faces, good memories in their hearts.

*****

 

The meal was relaxing, and they were able to sit in companionable silence; every once in a while one or the other would bring up a do-you-remember, and it had been a long time since Yuuri had enjoyed himself so much.

“I can’t eat more. I don’t eat like this.” Victor groaned.

“I was actually hungry for once.” Yuuri stood up and started gathering the things from the table. He reached for Victor’s plate, and Victor put his hand on Yuuri’s. “Don’t, Yuuri I will get it. Let me help you.” The touch had been light, but Yuuri felt it, the warm tingling of it. Victor was gazing at him, blue eyes that he could remember thinking you could drown, they were so deep and blue. Yuuri pulled his hand back and shuffled over to the sink to cover his reaction. “I can wash if you dry.” It was automatic, an echo from earlier times. Yuuri suddenly felt very embarrassed, he had just said it without thinking.

Victor was putting the leftovers away in the refrigerator. “Okay, I’ll give you a running start.” His voice had a smile in it, and Yuuri briefly closed his eyes, memory tugging at his heart.

The washing up had been a game to them, a competition. Victor would dry, Yuuri would wash. Yuuri would always try to keep the washed dishes way ahead of Victor's dry pile. They would wash and dry like mad to try to top each other. And it always began with Yuuri saying he would wash and Victor could dry, and Victor would always say he would give him a running start. They would sabotage each other as much as possible, Yuuri would flirt to make Victor distracted, Victor would find ways to touch Yuuri because he knew it would make him short circuit. It had been just another one of the ways they had made their everyday lives special. The fact that Victor remembered, and remembered enough to say the magic words had brought that little tug.

 

After an afternoon of reminiscing about small things from years ago, evening had arrived. They were sitting on the porch swing together. Victor gestured around the clearing in front of them. “I would imagine that this fills up with fireflies in the summertime. Probably really pretty.” Yuuri agreed, imagining the lights that would dance and make it look magical. Yuuri shivered and Victor, concerned picked up Yuuri’s hands. “Yuuri, you are freezing!” Victor pulled the colorful blanket from behind them and covered him up, tucking in the ends around him. “There.” Victor smiled at Yuuri, and it was so sweet, and that had been such a Victor thing to do, Yuuri smiled back, “thank you.” Victor placed his hand on Yuuri’s leg, “You know Yuuri, if you…need anything, or if I should be doing something for you, just tell me. Ok?” Victor swung his head to face him, his bangs swinging into his face, head tilted and smiling the sweetest smile. Yuuri was caught between two things- that beautiful face and the hand on his leg. He was hyper-aware of it resting lightly on his thigh through the blanket, the lightest added weight. Yuuri looked down at Victor’s hand, blush creeping up his neck to bloom on his cheeks. Victor looked at his hand, and quickly put it back in his own lap. They sat for a bit, and then Victor started rocking the swing with his foot; Yuuri joined, and it was both comfortable and comforting.

“Just two old men rocking in a swing.” Victor laughed a little.

“Speak for yourself, Nikiforov.” Yuuri grinned back at him.

And they rocked, listening to the breeze in the treetops.

Later, when they walked into the cabin, Victor said, “We need a fire. And something warm to drink.” They looked at each other and at the same time said “Cocoa.”

Victor was headed over to the fireplace, and Yuuri headed to the kitchen. He was sure the vaults of food would include cocoa somewhere. He wasn’t disappointed. Cocoa and marshmallows sitting in one of the cupboards.

“There’s marshmallows. Want?”

“Sounds perfect.”

Yuuri brought mugs back brimming with marshmallows, along with the marshmallow bag and a mixing bowl.

He put the mugs on the table, put the bowl on the far side of the room on the floor, just before the fireplace and sat down next to Victor. Semi-close. _This isn’t too close. I can sit next to him this closely, it’s fine. It’s all water under the bridge now, it’s ok. Not like I’m sitting in his lap._ Just close enough for their legs to touch _,_ if they moved _. It’s fine._

Victor pointed at the bag, question on his face. “What’s this?” Yuuri smiled, pulled a mini marshmallow out of the bag, looked over at the bowl. Deliberately looked back at Victor, faces inches from each other, and tossed it. “One point.” Victor’s mouth curved up in delight. “You’re on Katsuki!”

They divided up the marshmallows, and agreed on rules:

**OFFICIAL RULES FOR THE KATSUKI-NIKIFOROV MARSHMALLOW TOSS INVITATIONAL:**

  * You can’t leave the sofa.
  * You cannot look at the bowl when you throw.
  * Loser has to pick up all the marshmallows and wash the cocoa mugs.



The game ended when they were out of marshmallows, and Yuuri had won by 3 points. It had been fun, loud, each one whooping every time a marshmallow landed in the bowl, teasing each other when it missed. And Yuuri was pretty sure they had just as many marshmallows in the sofa crevices since at one point when it was particularly heated, they pelted each other with them.

“You cheated Katsuki!”

“How did I cheat, exactly?” Eyebrow cocked.

“You distracted me.”

“No I did not!”

“Yes you did, you moved the sofa cushion every time it was my turn! It hit my elbow and changed my trajectory!”

“I did not, I was just trying to get comfortable.” Yuuri nodded in the direction of the bowl. “Better get busy. Those marshmallows aren’t going to pick up themselves.” Victor huffed and Yuuri’s shoulders were shaking with laughter. Victor rose from the sofa, grabbed the bowl and started picking up marshmallows. “Just so you know, there _will_ be a rematch.” He smiled over his shoulder as he picked up the marshmallows, and Yuuri couldn’t have scrubbed the smile off his own face if he tried.

“Sure, if you _want_ to be a glutton for punishment.” Victor brought the bowl over and was plucking the marshmallows from the sofa. He had an almost prissy look, corners of his mouth tucked in and serious concentration on his brow. It made Yuuri start giggling all over again. Victor looked at him questioningly but Yuuri just waved his hand. “Make sure you get them all, Yurio’d kill us if ants got in here.”

When the marshmallow plucking was done, Victor took the bowl into the kitchen and started rummaging in the cupboards. Yuuri, amused, asked “What are you doing?” Victor glanced over and then “Aha!” brought out a lidded container. He held it out for Yuuri to see. “For the rematch _.”_ And he piled the marshmallows into it.

Yuuri tried to stand up, but moaned and quickly sat down again, dizzy.

Quick as a flash, Victor was at the sofa. “You are ok? Do you need help? What’s wrong?” Victor was looking at him with that watchful face again. Yuuri sighed. “Just dizzy. Got up too fast. I just need to sit a bit.” Victor hesitated, then relaxed.

Victor walked over to one of the side tables, and Yuuri saw that there was a radio. He turned it on and sat back down. A soft song was playing. Victor came back to the sofa and sat next to Yuuri. “Let’s just sit and listen to music for a while, da?” Yuuri nodded, and they sat looking at the fire and listening to the music. Song after song, and a peaceful, contented feeling swept over him. He relaxed, no longer dizzy, just sleepy now. His eyes were heavy, and soon he was nodding, the warmth of the fire, the soft music lulling him. Then he felt gentle nudging.

“Yuuri?” A soft voice. “Yuuri.” His opened his eyes and realized he must have fallen asleep, and he had managed to tilt over onto Victors shoulder. And he had drooled. Victors face was very, very close, looking beautiful as always. He jerked up quickly, swiping his mouth and seeing Victors look of amusement. “Sorry, guess I am more tired than I thought.” Victor’s smile faded, replaced with a gentle, almost sad look. “Yes, I suppose so.” Victor almost whispered it. Yuuri breathed deep and said,“I think I should go to bed.”

“Do you need help?” That watchful look again.

“No, I’m sick- not geriatric.” Yuuri chuckled.

“Of course, of course.”

Yuuri stood and headed to the stair. He stopped at mid-stair, turned to Victor who was heading to his own room. “This was a good day. Thank you Victor.” Victor smiled as he looked up at Yuuri.

“Yes, for me too. Good night, Yuuri. Sleep well.”

Yuuri lay down tucked into the warm blankets, eyes closed and a smile playing on his face., and there were no bad dreams, no bad memories, just gentle sleep rising up to take him.

*****

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Couple things:  
> I am so glad you stuck with me through the angst. Enough! Enough of that, let's get to something happy, please? 
> 
> Ahh, sweet glimpses of domesticity. In my head, Yuuri and Victor make everything fun when they're together. And as competitive as they both are I can see them making even washing up a contest. 
> 
> I am no gardener. I cannot keep the 'easiest' plants alive, but am fascinated by the legends and myths behind flowers. I am surprised to find out that Victor learned about flowers-well kind of-but it seems like a Victor-ish thing to do when you think about it, doesn't it? I love that boy.
> 
> Marshmallows, what can I say? If you have ever been stuck camping or somewhere without TV, etc, you and your friends find ways to entertain yourself. And I do have to admit that I long to own a marshmallow shooter. *shrug* A girls gotta dream.
> 
> Some more music from my playlist [here](https://youtu.be/Nr9c5GD0pLw) and [here](https://youtu.be/cUhnQzjXHHY) and [here](https://youtu.be/3X-xTEJn4ks)
> 
>  
> 
> Tuesday's coming.


	4. Tuesday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri surprises Victor  
> Victor and Yuuri glimpse the past  
> There's an elephant in this room

## Tuesday

Yuuri woke feeling rested, sunshine falling on his face in a warmth that was enveloping, like a bath, or a hotspring. He hummed and stretched, and smiled up at the ceiling, then out the window. He burrowed down into the blankets, with just his eyes over the top of the blanket, looking at the blurry tree tops and hearing birds chirp, the sounds and sights of spring. Then he remembered where he was and who was there; he jumped out of the bed, grabbing some clothes, heading down the stair and into the bathroom with a light step, happy smile playing on his face. He didn’t even feel the stub of his toe, well, hardly against the chair on the way. _I really should have worn my glasses._

After showering, dressing and heading into the kitchen toweling his hair (after retrieving his glasses), he decided to make breakfast for Victor. Victor had been so kind to him yesterday, making sure that he had everything he needed. _He was just being kind, it doesn’t mean anything. Yet._ He didn’t finish the thought.

Besides, he wanted to take his medicine and get it out of the way before Victor was up; sometimes the meds made him sick and he didn’t want Victor to worry, didn’t want that reality shoved into Victors face so blatantly. He found some soda crackers, ate some and took his pills, hoping it would be enough on his stomach to keep the sick feeling away. He looked into the endless supplies in the cupboard and refrigerator, and found what he was looking for, pulling the ingredients into a pile.

He had no doubt there were probably all kinds of breakfast-y things in the freezer, ready to go, but he wanted to do this. He was really kind of good at making pancakes, and that had been their Sunday breakfasts back when…Yuuri shut that off and got the other ingredients together. He rummaged some more in the Fantastic Food Store and found chocolate chips, ripped the bag open and dumped some of those in as well. He mixed the batter, and got a griddle pan out, got the heat just right, the butter popping and snapping when he put a drop of water on it. Perfect. He ladled and made pancakes and then a thought came to him- when had he last felt this good waking up? When was the last time he didn’t think automatically of coaching, or programs, or traveling plans, or worry of his illness?

Yuuri’s smile grew wider as he flipped and made the pancakes. The door under the stair popped open, Victor in a t-shirt and sweats, yawning and scratching his stomach, with the most adorable bed hair. Even with bed hair he still looks beautiful like always. Just like always.

But Yuuri said nothing as Victor walks over to the stove looking over Yuuri’s shoulder. “Oh I had forgotten how good those smell!” Victor closed his eyes, savoring and then smiled into Yuuri’s face, his shoulder touching Yuuri’s. Yuuri smiled back. “They’re just pancakes. Nothing special.” Victor pushes on his shoulder with his. “They’re _Yuuri_ pancakes.”, then looks down at the ever increasing pile and the never ending batter bowl. “Yuuri, you always make” Victor catches himself, and moves to pull plates down from the cupboard. He clears this throat. “You always made too many.”

Yuuri’s smile becomes a bit forced, covering the swoop in his stomach when Victor used present tense. “I always made the neighbors happy though! Every Sunday, I bet they all thought, “Let’s see what that crazy Japanese man put in the pancakes today!” He chuckled to himself at the memories of knocking on the neighbor’s doors, handing over plates of pancakes, Yuuri smiling a little shamefacedly and Victor smiling proudly that his man could make such ‘wonderful’ pancakes. “But that was part of the fun! I was always surprised by your creativity, Yuuri.” Victor smiled back.

As they sat and ate breakfast, Yuuri would glance at Victor when he thought he wasn’t looking. Victor happily eating forkful after forkful. After a bit Yuuri was feeling impressed. Looking at his own plate he remarked, “Glad now I made so many. You can still eat like that, and still look like _this_?” He waved his hand at Victor’s frame, which were still muscled and lean and no real signs of age. Victor looked up with his fork halfway to his mouth, surprised.

“I work out.”

Yuuri blinked, and the bit of pancake precariously teetering on Victor’s fork fell off and onto his plate with a _splat!_ Yuuri and Victor both looked at each other for a beat, and then both laughed hard and loud; breaking any tension that had been there.

“Well really Yuuri, your pancakes have always been the best pancakes. You haven’t lost your touch.” Victor wiped his mouth with a napkin, standing to clear his plate and flatware. He pointed at Yuuri’s plate with his fork. “You need to eat, you haven’t eaten a thing. You are making me feel like a pig!” Yuuri glanced down at his mostly full plate. “I don’t eat as much as I did. Can’t.” Victor took his plate and flatware to the sink, and he began filling it with water for the washing up.

Yuuri’s stomach started to feel queasy, and he forced a smile onto his face as he went to scrape his plate into the trash. He was starting to sweat, the queasiness intensified, and he desperately hoped that he wouldn’t be sick. Not now. _Please not now._

He brought his plate over to the sink, holding it out to Victor with a trembling hand. Victor noticed the tremble, and looked up at Yuuri’s face sharply. “Are you ok?”

Yuuri’s smile was strained. “Fine. Just feeling...just...I’m sorry-“  Yuuri pushed the plate into Victors hand and ran to the bathroom, just making it as he retched and lost his battle to hold down his breakfast. He sank to his knees in front of the toilet, couldn’t stop the waves of retching even after his stomach was empty. He finally stopped, feeling weak, feeling hot and cold, dizzy. He leaned his forehead on the cool porcelain, gripping it to try to steady himself. Then felt a cool wet cloth on his neck, cool wet fingers applying it. The sound of the sink running water, and a cup being pushed against his hand. He took the cup and rinsed his mouth out, spitting and flushing. He couldn’t look up, he just couldn’t. Feeling humiliated, feeling exposed. “Thank you.”

Victor’s fingers on his head, combed through his hair, just lightly feeling it; no more than a butterfly fluttering. “Are you ok to get up? I can help you.” And Yuuri needed help, because his legs were still shaky. “Yes.”

He looked up to see worried blue eyes, and a hand held out for him to take. He took it and wobbled with Victors help into the living room and onto a chair. Victor then crouched down beside it, his hand on Yuuri’s arm. “Can I get you anything?” Yuuri closed his eyes and leaned his head back to rest on the chair. “No, I just need a minute. Don’t worry, this happens sometimes. I ate crackers this morning, thinking that would help with the medicine but it didn’t work. I’ll be fine.” He patted Victor’s hand, and turned his head sideways, cracking his eyes open to look at him.

The expression on Victors face changed immediately, he had caught a flash of something…well something that made his heart squeeze a little. _What was that?_

Now Victor just had a neutral expression. “Of course, I understand.” Yuuri smiled weakly. “Sorry, just part of my glamorous life.” Victor smiled a little in return. “I’m going to go clean up the kitchen, do you want a glass of water- would that help?”

“No, it’s ok. I’ll get my legs back under me in a minute.”

Victor patted his arm and then went back to bustling in the kitchen.

Yuuri felt that the morning had been spoiled, ruined. Victor couldn’t be thinking of anything but pity now and it rankled Yuuri so much _. I don’t want him to look at me that way. Not with pity or worry. Damn it to hell couldn’t he just have a day where this illness didn’t intrude in his life?_

Yuuri squashed that train of thought, it wouldn’t help anything and he wanted to regain some of that positive happy feeling from earlier. He was no longer feeling so weak, and the sick feeling had passed. “Can I help you clean up?”

Victor spoke over his shoulder. “No, have it almost done no worries. You made breakfast, least I can do is the washing up. What do you feel like doing today? I can look and see if there are some board games, or cards?” Victor turned to look at him, a polite smile on his face.

Yuuri got up and looked out the window. “The sun is shining, it looks really nice out there today. Maybe if we can scare up some cards we can play a game on the porch?”

Victor eyebrow cocked and he smiled a real smile this time. “Only if the game is my choice.”

*****

“I still don’t understand why you always win. You _always_ win this game.” Yuuri grumped, after losing at for the umpteenth time.  They had worn away the morning and early afternoon playing cards, laughing, telling each other funny stories.

Victor smiled, tilted his head, his hair falling into his eyes. “Durak will always be my game. That’s just how it is, Katsuki, I am _the_ best.”

Yuuri pinned Victor with a skeptical frown. “One of these days I am going to figure out how you manage to cheat before my eyes. That’s the only explanation.”

Victor laughed, and Yuuri couldn’t pretend to be mad anymore, laughed with him. Victor had the best laugh, big and honest and as if it came from his toes, a growing ball of mirth until it finally reaching his mouth and released to the air; it was infectious.

They settled companionably, sitting and nature watching. The birds were flying and swooping between the trees, calling each other. There was a breeze enough to move through the flowers and grass, stirring them and whirring them just a touch.

“I don’t ever get the chance to just sit and do this. This is nice.” Yuuri smiled up at the sun that was peeking just under the porch roof, and he closed his eyes enjoying the warmth.

“I don’t either, not as much as I would like to, anyway.” Yuuri looked over at Victor, studying his profile as Victor watched two birds scolding each other. Victor turned to look at him and Yuuri looked away quickly.

“Are you feeling up for a walk? We could walk down to the boat house, maybe take out the boat, and putt around a bit?” Victor asked.

“Do you know how to operate a boat?” Yuuri was skeptical.

“How hard can it be?” Victor shrugged, smiling. “Unless you don’t feel up to it?”

“Rain check? Believe it or not I do actually feel hungry.”

“Well, let’s go eat something, by all means!” Victor smiled and stood, pulling Yuuri up by his hands.

After a pleasant meal, they sat down in the living room and a lull fell over them. Yuuri marveled at how he could feel so comfortable with Victor as if no time had passed in some ways, but at the same time feel the year’s they had been apart, the years of silence pressing on him like a weight. They had not really talked. Not about anything that mattered. It was the proverbial elephant in the room, both of them carefully not acknowledging it.

“Do you often have to go through that?” Referring to Yuuri being sick earlier,Victor turned to Yuuri, studying him.

“Not often, fortunately. Sorry.” Yuuri hung his head, feeling embarrassed.

“Don’t be. I was just wondering, do you have anyone at home, who can help you when that happens?” Victor continued to study him, eyes closely watching his face.

“No, I don’t. I am usually just fine taking care of myself. Really, it usually isn’t this dramatic. You just happened to be around for a couple of bad ones.” Yuuri shrugged his shoulder, returning Victors gaze with an apologetic look.

Something in Victor’s expression shifted- _relief?_ And the tension left his face. He smiled, “Well, that’s good though isn’t it? And now you are on the mend.”

“Well what about you?” Yuuri asked, looking down at the hem of his shirt, fingers twisting it.

“Huh?” Victor’s voice was confused.

“Do you have anyone at home?” He knew what had been behind Victor’s question, and had wanted to know about him too. But, Yuuri didn’t mean to be that blunt, wanted to reel the words back in as soon as he said them, felt the blush rising to his ears.

Victor was silent long enough for Yuuri to look up at him. Victors was smiling. “No, I don’t have anyone at home. There’s just me.” He flushed and turned away.

Yuuri couldn’t stop the smile, even if he had wanted to, the tug on the corners of his mouth pulling irresistibly.

And they sat and rocked, watching the birds.

*****

 

“Well I don’t know about you, but I think I would like to watch a video.” Victor stood, putting his book down and walking over to the row of videos next to the television.

Yuuri had been woolgathering, staring out the window and lost in thought. “Sure, why not?”

The afternoon had worn on quietly. Yuuri had been wondering what now? Where do they go from here? He wondered if Victor was wondering the same thing, poring over his book but since he hadn’t flipped a page in quite a while he suspected as much.

Victor grabbed one that was sitting on top of the machine. “Ha! Home video? I wonder what it is.” He looked at Yuuri, eyebrows raised in a question.

“Sure.” He repeated. “Probably just some family thing, maybe when the children were smaller.”

Victor laughed. “Maybe it is something embarrassing like Yurio singing, great blackmail stuff.”

Yuuri smiled. “Or maybe old skating routines?”

Victor popped it in and turned on the television, sat down on the sofa next to Yuuri instead of the chair this time.

The screen showed a distant past, apparently some kind of party. It was a birthday party-Yurios, judging by the banner hanging on the wall. But it was not a family gathering, as there were people that Yuuri recognized as sponsors, officials, people from the skating community.

Yurio was at the center, smiling, lipping off, and opening gifts. Yakov walked across the screen holding a drink. Ota was sitting at the table next to Yurio, smiling and not taking his eyes off him.

And then Yuuri saw himself, and he knew what this party was. Remembered exactly what this was. _Damn you Yurio._ He had to have known they would eventually watch videos out of needing something to do, and hoped they would pick this one.

The screen showed Yuuri off center from Yurio, pouring a drink in a cup. Yuuri had been just starting to work under Yakov to take over as coach. He looked so young, not quite confident in a room full of people talking and being noisy. Younger Yuuri’s eyes were scanning the party, until he found Victor. Young Victor standing and speaking with two people Yuuri didn’t remember, drink in his hand, laughter on his face. Young Yuuri lit up, smiling.

“I really don’t feel like watching this, looks boring Victor.”

Victor was entranced. “We were so young, look at all of us!” He was smiling and staring at the screen, eyes taking it in.

“Maybe we could take a walk?”

“In a while, I just can’t get over it. Look at the fashions. HA look at Yurio, his hair was so long! Still didn’t look as good as mine when mine was.” Victor laughed.

Yuuri was hoping, holding his breath that this video didn’t capture...well, what he hoped it didn’t capture.

Young Yuuri leaning against the table at the far right of the screen, and two people speaking Russian standing next to him, facing the other way.

Yuri looked away, didn’t want to relive it.

“I still cannot believe it.” The woman said to her companion.

“I know. Victor should have had it. Everyone expected it.” The man replied.

“He was meant to have it. He was Yakov’s best student, the Russian six time world champion. What a mistake.”

“Well, it makes no sense to have a Japanese person take over for the Russian team. He’ll probably go to Japan and where will that leave Russia? I don’t care how talented they say he is, he isn’t _Victor_.”

“You heard that Victor is looking into choreography right?”

“Well he has to, doesn’t he? Not like there is much choice now. If Katsuki hadn’t pulled him away from skating...”

“And then stolen his future.”

“Well there goes the winning tradition of Russian figure skating.”

“Going to a less talented hack.”

During this conversation on the screen, younger Yuuri’s shoulders had slumped, and he put his cup down quickly on the table. Younger Yuuri turned toward the video, his face a polite mask. Young Yuuri walked away from the couple, looked over at Victor in the corner. Young Victor waved and smiled back, then continued talking. Young Yuuri sighed hard enough to make his shoulders rise and fall, and then trudged out of the screen.

Yuuri stood and clicked the screen off. He put his hands in his pockets and looked at the floor.

Victor was motionless, face blank.

Yuuri waited for him to say something. Victor looked up at Yuuri, now all eyes and stricken face.

“Not that big of a deal, Victor. It’s history.”

“I didn’t know that happened, Yuuri. I didn’t know.”

“I said it doesn’t matter. It was long ago.”

“Yuuri, why didn’t you tell me?”

Yuuri didn’t have any answers.

Victor asked again. “Why? Don’t you think that is something you should have shared?”

Yuuri looked back at Victor evenly. “Victor, are you really surprised? Besides, that wasn’t the first or last time I had heard that.”

Victor looked as if someone had sucker punched him. He put his hands on his knees and leaned forward,

“What do you mean?” _Crap._

“Would it have changed anything? Victor, it felt like your _entire country_ hated me. You _were_ Russian figure skating. Not me. You were supposed to carry on after Yakov, not me. You had all the talent, not me. Everywhere I went in Russia, even after I proved myself successful, I couldn’t do anything without being reminded. How was I supposed to tell you that without sounding like I was whining, or even worse tell you- and have it confirmed for me? I had convinced myself deep down that it was true.”

Victor’s voice was like ice. “I didn’t think you were a coward Yuuri Katsuki. And you should have known me better than that.”

“Could’ve, should’ve, would’ve. We can’t go back Victor.”

 “I don’t understand. I never have understood it, Yuuri.” Victor turned to him, deliberately looking into Yuuri’s eyes. “I had found you. The man who had given me back my inspiration, my hope. The man I loved and that loved me, and it seemed like the more I tried to hold on the more you slipped away.”

“I didn’t just slip away Victor. But I was young and so were you. One hell of a lot of responsibility and expectation on both of us. Couple that with me thinking that I had taken your future. Thinking that you would have done it better. And that eventually you would hate me for it.”  

Victor’s eyes blazed. “Damn it Yuuri, was there ever a point in time that you trusted me enough to tell me everything? I thought we were in it together. I never once regretted not coaching after Yakov. You were an exception Yuuri, I loved coaching you but that was different. I had no wish to continue when I was done coaching you. I wanted to choreograph; it was what I loved.”

“Why didn’t you tell me Yuuri? Why didn’t we...I don’t know, why didn’t we try harder?” Victor’s voice was anguished.

“Like I said, we can’t go back.”

Yuuri sat down next to him.

The silence was deafening.

“Victor, look. It really doesn’t matter now, does it? I was young. So were you. We can sit here all night hashing this out and it wouldn’t make a damn bit of difference.  The truth is that was years ago.

We aren’t the same people.

If you really want to know what I think, it’s simply that we stopped talking. We stopped taking care of each other. We- you AND me- stopped putting each other first. Or maybe we put each other first too much, and it made us lose sight of what was important? I don’t know.”

Victor sighed, and it sounded like it came from deep down inside him. “And I just want to go back and kick myself. And you.” He took a shaky breath.

“I tried calling you.”

Victor’s eyes widened. “When?”

“Often, that first year. I would pick up the phone, thinking I would call you and tell you that we made a mistake, wanting to hear your voice. God, that first year. I would wake up and reach to your side of the bed. And then cry with grief because you weren’t there.

“About a year after you moved out, I had decided I couldn’t live without you any longer, and I was going to call and do anything to get you back. Anything at all. It was a battle with myself every day. I had all kinds of thoughts going through my head. Would you reject me? Would you even want me back? Those kind of thoughts. But I was finally determined to try, to have you back on your terms, whatever they might be because I needed you. Then it was all over social media, I saw somewhere that you had started seeing Ben Miller. “Victor Nikiforov Bounces Back with American Heartthrob!” was the headline of one of the stories I had read. Pictures of you and him everywhere.

“I threw myself into work. I figured, well I figured you had moved on, and just because I hadn’t didn’t mean I had the right to...interfere in your life.”

Victor stared at Yuuri, mouth hung open. He blinked. “Ben. Miller.”

“Yes.”

“I didn’t have a relationship with Ben Miller. We were never more than friends, we hung out together. The media just took and ran with that lie.”

Yuuri, shook his head, laughed flatly. “Well you had me fooled. And our friends. And it wasn’t just him, I had seen your name linked to quite a few, those first few years. And after that, well, I stayed as busy as I could so I didn’t have to see anything at all.”

“I wish you would have called me.” Victor said simply, elbows on knees, hands clasped, gazing at Yuuri with such regret. “I wanted to see you, too. But everyone told me you had thrown yourself into work, and that you refused to talk about me.”

“They were right. I had, and people gave up trying. I didn’t want to hear about you being with anyone else, and I was afraid that was all they wanted to talk about. To gossip, or to pry. It hurt too much.”

He looked Victor in the eyes, looking into those eyes that had haunted him, the memory of those eyes that had driven him harder to become the best coach, the best that ever was. He remembered nights of crying until he thought there was no way he could cry anymore, that there couldn’t be tears left. Hearing snatches of conversation about Victor Nikiforov’s latest conquest, words that would burn and rend his soul, tear his mind to bits, shatter any peace. He remembered the casual hookups over the years, strangers with Victors face. With Victors hands, and feeling empty afterwards. Feeling nothing. Nights when his anxiety was ratcheting so high that he felt he was barely hanging on to the earth as it spun, pacing up and down his flat, shaking, his mind telling him horrible things like he hadn’t deserved him anyway, not able to sleep, not able to rest. Looking in the mirror and seeing a ghost with eyes dark and full of pain. Thinking of Victor. Thinking of whispered promises, soft kisses like rain drops pattering on his neck, his chest, his lips, and held hands in the dark of night, lying next to him, so close, holding him while he slept, natural as breathing, the feel of him, and the smell of him, and the million and one tender things that had become the worst form of torture.

How could he tell Victor this, so that he would understand? Years of this, until he had managed to tie it all up and shove it somewhere, make it fuel to succeed, to keep moving, keep going, become someone that mattered. He couldn’t, Victor would never know, couldn’t know, what it had been like.

“I need a drink.” Victor got up, went to the kitchen. “Do you want a drink Yuuri?” Victor blinked, rephrased his question. “Can you have a drink?” Yuuri laughed shakily. “Well, I’m having one.” He helped in the search, found some vodka in the freezer. He wordlessly put it on the counter, and Victor got two glasses down from the cupboard.

Two hours later, they were sitting on the boat dock. Victor had the bottle, and they had done with the niceties of glasses, drinking straight from the bottle. It was chilly by the water but Yuuri didn’t feel particularly cold, not with the vodka warming him up.

They hadn’t spoken, just sitting, drinking and looking at the water. Yuuri felt cleaned out, purged. For the first time in a long time, he felt that he had let go of something that had been holding him down, and it was a relief.

“You know, if either one of us had been smart at all, we would have contacted each other.”

 Yuuri smiled. “If only.” He turned to Victor, faces close in the dark.

“Victor, if there is anything that I am finally learning over these past couple of years, it’s that you can wish all you want, but it doesn’t change anything.” He looked up at the stars. “I am glad that we have talked though. I am glad for that.” He took the bottle, paused, and then handed it back. He knew better than to be drinking.

“Agreed.” Victor took a swig. Victor was still in a t-shirt, although Yuuri had a jacket and scarf.

“Victor, you’ve got to be cold.”

“Nah, I’m not cold. I’m Russian.”

Yuuri threw his head back and laughed, and Victor laughed with him.

Victor stopped laughing, just smiling now, looked at Yuuri and said, “That laugh. Damn Yuuri, it’s still the same. I always loved your laugh.”

“Like a donkey braying.”

“No, no not at all. Your laugh, it’s like a baby. So sweet and bubbly.”

“I think that’s the vodka talking.”

“Nope, not at all. I have drank so much vodka over the years at this point I have immunity.”

This got them laughing again, eventually chuckling now and again. And the silence was comfortable.

_In this light, I can almost pretend. No time has passed and we hadn’t ever been apart. In this light, here in the dark, I can._

Victor’s hand found Yuuri’s, and their fingers intertwined. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well it is finally all out there. Question is, what happens next?
> 
>  
> 
> Some music from the writing playlist: [here](https://youtu.be/HOSNQkxXKW4) and [here](https://youtu.be/b57Ie6L9oy8)
> 
> Wednesday's coming.


	5. Wednesday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Victor has a question. Yuuri gives an answer.

## Wednesday

_“Yuuri” a whisper._

_“Yuuri?” louder._

_“Unnngh.” Yuuri turned over and covered his head with his pillow._

_“Yuuri, guess whose birthday it is?” Victor’s singsong voice, muffled through the pillow. “What would you like for your birthday? Name it, it’s yours. If I have to fly you somewhere to get it even. Yuuri? You have to wake up, it’s your birthday!” Victor was trying to entice him._

_“Mmm. Sleep. Want sleep.”_

_“Yuuri you can’t have sleep for your birthday.” Victor trying the voice of reason, but it just made Yuuri burrow further into the covers._

_It was silent, and Yuuri finally thought he got his wish, to sleep in this morning. Yessss._

_Until he felt movement under the blanket, the bed sinking behind him, then fingers on his back, lightly stroking a line down to his hip, and then up again. Victor had burrowed under the covers behind him, his fingers never leaving Yuuri. An arm snaked around his waist, stroking fingers seeking and teasing._

_Light and ticklish strands of hair on the back of his neck, then warm breath and lips brushing there, ghosting and raising gooseflesh._

_“I changed my mind.”_

_“About?”_

_“What I want for my birthday.”_

_He felt the lips on his neck, curving into a smile. “I hoped you would.”_

_Quick movement, and Yuuri had flipped over, jumping on top of Victor, effectively and efficiently grabbing and pinning Victor’s wrists above his head._

_Yuuri smiled down, fully awake now._

_Victor smiled up, eyes laughing._

_“I want you for my birthday.”_

_“You have such good taste, Yuuri. Am I not always saying this?”_

_They laughed, and Yuuri nuzzled into Victors neck, nipping and kissing, then lightly grazing his lips to Victors ear, nibbling and teasing once there._

_“Yuuri.”_

_“Mmmhmm”_

_“Yuuri.” A firmer voice now._

_Yuuri pulled back and looked at Victor, noses almost touching._

_“What is it?”_

_Victor’s smile turned serious. His eyes lost the laughter and turning sorrowful._

_“Yuuri, it’s really over, isn’t it?”_

Yuuri startled awake.

“Yuuri?” Victor’s voice coming from his right. He opened his eyes, seeing the blurry ceiling, then turned his head. Victor was half crouched by Yuuri’s bed, eyes looking concerned. “Are you ok?”

Yuuri frowned. “Yes- I think so?” Yuuri sat up slowly, leaning back on his hands and yawned. “I don’t remember getting here.”

Victor flushed lightly, looked down at the bed, tracing the blanket pattern with his finger. “I carried you up. You fell asleep last night, I knew you were tired out, I didn’t want to wake you.”

Yuuri was still processing this information, and Victor must have taken it as disapproval. “I hope that was ok, I didn’t think you would want to sleep on the sofa, wasn’t sure it would be comfortable, and I thought…” Victor trailed off, brows drawing together.

“That was- no that was fine. More than, you didn’t have to do that.” He smiled at Victor reached out and touched Victors hand. Victor smiled back in obvious relief.

Yuuri saw that Victor was in a pair of sweats, barefoot with no shirt. He looked tired, like he hadn’t gotten much rest. Looked beyond Victor to the chair next to the bed, saw a pillow on the back of it, scrunched and hanging halfway off the back; a blanket draped over the side and trailing to the floor.

“Victor, did you _sleep_ there? In that chair?” Victor’s eyes widened a bit, and he flushed again, smiling shamefacedly. He cleared his throat. “Da, yes.” Then in a rush of words, “I wanted to make sure you were ok, when I put you in the bed you became a bit restless and I was worried, since you had been ill yesterday morning. So I slept in here. Just to make sure that, well, you know. That everything was ok.” His voice became soft on that last, and he peered up at Yuuri through a curtain of silver, blue eyes wary and questioning.

Yuuri looked down at Victors hands that were now wandering and churning the blanket, clasping and twisting. He took both of Victor’s hands in his, and gently pulled them away from the blanket, clasped them firmly. Then looked back at Victor. “Now you must be the tired one.” Victor smiled, and it was as if the sun had come out.

Yuuri thinking _, I have missed this, when he would smile like this, it was my morning sun._

He tugged Victor’s hands towards him so that Victor was pulled up on to the side of the bed. “Just a bit. You know, there was a time I would have milked this for all it was worth to get attention and praise from you.” He looked sideways at Yuuri and grinned, eyebrow cocked.

“Yes you would have, and I would have to rack my brain to think of things to do for you.” They laughed. “Not that I minded. I loved making it up to you for the chivalrous, ridiculous things you would do.” Yuuri smiled; Victor had made big sweeping gestures like this during their years together, but he was thinking about all the little things that Victor would do, making Yuuri feel special and adored. Flowers for no reason at all, phone calls just to say I love you, Victor giving Yuuri an arm when they would enter a room full of people, guiding him proudly. Holding his chair for him at fancy restaurants, insisting that he open the car door for him. Victor holding the umbrella over Yuuri’s head in the pouring rain, Victor the Knight in Shining Armor.

He realized that he had been staring at Victor while he ran through these memories, and he blushed and drug his eyes away.

“You probably want to get some real rest, don’t you? You could go lie down, catch some sleep?”

Victor smiled. “Not at all. I am not going to waste time sleeping.”

“So then, what should we do today?” Yuuri asked.

Victor put his finger to his lips and tilted his head. “I have some ideas.”

*****

Yuuri was standing beside Victor on the ferry, sun warm and shining, gulls crying overhead as they headed towards the main island. Yuuri was enjoying the suns warmth, and he was stealing looks at Victors profile, still so fine as he smiled in contentment and looked out at the water, the breeze teased his hair, lifting the fine strands of silver and making them shine, dazzling Yuuri.

Earlier, they had breakfasted, then Yuuri had gone to shower and dress. When he came back, Victor had also showered and dressed, and was waiting with a smile.

“I have called for the ferry. The ferryman was going this route anyway and he will be here in about twenty minutes. So put your coat on, we have to get down to the dock soon!”

“We are going somewhere? Where?”

“Yes, we certainly are. And you will see.” Victor had said, grinning, eyes playful.

The water was beautiful, and they stood at the rail side by side, content. The ferry was sparsely populated; people standing or sitting,  a few children here and there. One little girl, probably no more than five or six, was jumping up and down holding her father’s hand, smiling up and chattering nearly non-stop.

“Are we going to a zoo? Are we going to go shopping? I want to go to a park and play. What are we doing?” She paused, thinking and then, “If we are going to a zoo, I want to see a tiger. With BIG TEETH!”

Her father smiled down. “The little petting zoo doesn’t have tigers, Nola. It has horses and goats, and some other small animals though.”

Nola grinned, and she held up her index finger. “Maybe just one small tiger? A purple one.”

Her father laughed. “Nola, a tiger would eat the other animals.”

“He could eat apples. He would be a good tiger.”

Yuuri was smiling as he watched the exchange, then looked over at Victor, and caught Victor looking at Yuuri, with an amused smile, head tilted.

Yuuri wondered if Victor had regretted never having children; he had often thought about it over the years himself.

He nodded toward the little girl, eyes never leaving Yuuri’s. “Purple apple-eating tiger. I like that.” He reached out and took Yuuri’s hand in his, and they both smiled and looked out at the water.

*****

The main island was actually quite large, covering several miles, it boasted three smaller villages on its shores, and one small city. Victor and Yuuri were walking down one of the many streets filled with shops there, charming displays inviting tourists to come in and spend some time and their money. There were many restaurants to choose from and activities as this was geared for tourists, although there was still a thriving maritime industry as well in this region.

Yuuri and Victor had visited some of the shops that caught there eye, looking at the wares, buying a few souvenirs here and there. At first, Victor had fussed over Yuuri, wanting to make sure that he felt well, that he was up for walking and playing tourist.

“Victor, I feel really good. If I get tired I will tell you. Stop. Worrying.” He smiled up at him, and Victor relaxed. Hands in his pockets, Victor held out his arm for Yuuri to take, and he did.

They commented to each other about the various shops and the scenic views, never far from the sea and the sparkling water this close to shore. Victor had stopped and bought some warm tea (Yuuri) and coffee (Victor) from a street vendor for them both and they had sat on a bench sipping, and people-watched for a while. Victor started making up absurd stories about the people that they saw, murmuring into Yuuri’s ear.

“See that man in blue? He is actually a spy. He is waiting to meet his contact, and they will know each other by a secret passcode. The passcode is a phrase, and the phrase is ‘I want to dance with somebody. Somebody who loves me’.” 

“That pretty little lady with the white hair?  Just there, in the pink sweater and skirt? She looks gentle and sweet, but secretly is really a professional wrestler. She goes by the name ‘The Pink Crusher’ and her famous finishing move is the flying butt-pliers. She is the reigning champion right now, and all of the other wrestlers fear her the most.”

Yuuri was in tears, holding his stomach with repressed laughter, hand to his mouth covering his wide grin. He hadn’t forgotten that Victor could be so wicked this way, had used to do this at airports when they traveled, waiting rooms, anywhere that required sitting among masses of people.

Yuuri elbowed him after the fifth or six ridiculous narrative, because his sides were hurting and if he didn’t stop Yuuri was going to burst.

“What?” Victor asked innocently, laughing down at him.

“ _You_ know.” Yuuri was flushed with quiet laughing.

“Okay, let’s go. You ready?”

“For what?”

“Follow me.”

Victor stood, pulling Yuuri up by his hand, folding it into his as they walked up the street. “If you are tired, you will tell me? We can always get a taxi, rest and wait for the ferry, you know.”

“I’m fine. But I need to know where we are going.”

“It’s just up the street.”

A couple of more blocks, and the shops gave way to a large park, trees and benches, a walking path, places for children to play. But the big attraction was… “A rink?” Yuuri looked wonderingly at Victor. “Here?”

“Da. Yurio had told me it was here. It is not large, but yes a warm weather rink. I think they shut it down when it is actually summer, but otherwise, here it is.”

They stood at the edge of the park, and just within eyesight, an oval rink, and a small hut for renting skates. Benches ringed around the fence on the pavement, and this was obviously quite popular as there were people already skating, sitting on benches watching, and waiting for the time when it was their turn.

Yuuri blinked at it, then looked at Victor. “You want to go skating?”

Victor grinned. “We don’t have to skate, Yuuri. We could sit and watch.” Victor paused. “Or we could do something else?” Victor’s smile fading, he was starting to look nervous, peering at Yuuri’s face for his reaction.

“How did you know it was here?”

“Yurio had told me about it. They built it last year. An investment, he says. But, I think he and Ota just wanted to have a rink close by when they are here.”

“I wonder they didn’t tell me?”

“Well, you have had other things on your mind, haven’t you?” Victor shrugged. “What do you think, want to skate with me?”

*****

They had rented skates, and were now just gliding, making a slow path around the outer part of the oval. The rink was not so full that it was uncomfortable, people waiting their turn on the sides and watching. Yuuri was never far from the ice, he would skate to clear his head or for exercise. But this was for pure fun; no agenda, no plan, no student to guide and instruct. Just skating for enjoyment. Now he was skating with Victor, arm in arm, sometimes Victor putting a hand to the small of Yuuri’s back to steer him around other skaters.

Yuuri felt ridiculously happy. He would glance over and admire the graceful posture that Victor hadn’t lost over the years. Years since they had competed, but the ice was still home for Yuuri, and, he suspected, for Victor as well.

There was a preteen boy in the center, wearing earbuds and skating small figures. Victor and Yuuri both watched him. There was a large gap in the crowd on the ice at the far end, people thinning out as the time wound down, and the boy took off, singling and turning back, skating to the center, going into a spin, hands behind his back and free leg out behind him. _Nicely done,_ Yuuri thought. When the boy came out of his spin, he went through a simple, almost lazy footwork sequence, and Yuuri identified it as this skaters default for when he was thinking or working something out, every skater had one. The boy pivoted to a stop, just as Yuuri and Victor were rounding where he was. The boy looked up and saw them and his eyes grew wide, hands flew up to remove the earbuds.

“You’re Coach Katsuki! _Yuuri Katsuki!”_ He exclaimed in an American accent, voice full of dizzy wonder; incredulous. He was holding out a shaking hand, and Yuuri shook it, laughing. He turned to Victor and smiled even wider. “ _Victor Nikiforov!”_ then he looked back and forth at them both, dazedly shaking Victor’s hand. “I can’t believe it! Here? You are…” the boy looked around the rink, making a wide swath around with his arm, “Here? Of all places?” Grinning from ear to ear, he looked at them expectantly.

“Yes, vacationing.” Yuuri smiled warmly. “Are you vacationing as well..um?” Yuuri asking for his name.

“Jesse Walker. My name is Jesse Walker. Yes, my family and I. They are just over there.” He pointed to a couple sitting on a bench, watching the skaters.

“Are you a competitive skater?”

“Yes, I have been skating since I was 5. I hope to get better and better, and am working to enter juniors.” The boy continued to grin, shaking his head as if he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. Then he turned serious. “Umm, if you have any tips, I could sure use some?”

Yuuri leaned a bit closer, looked into his eyes. “Yes, just one. _Enjoy_ it.”

Jesse’s grin grew even bigger. “There’s nothing I like doing more!” He put his hands on his hips, then brought them to his face and shook his head. “Yuuri Katsuki and Victor Nikiforov, I can’t believe it.”

Victor smiled. “Have a good day, Jesse, da?”

“Wait, could I?” he fished his phone out of his pocket, eyebrows up in question.

Victor and Yuuri stood by him and leaned in for the selfie.

“Thank you so much!” Victor and Yuuri smiled and nodded, then skated to the exit.

They were a couple of blocks from the rink when Victor said, “Jesse Walker probably won’t sleep tonight. It isn’t every day you meet an idol, and you are obviously one of them.” He smiled at Yuuri. Yuuri returned the smile.

“No, it isn’t every day.”

Then Yuuri looked down at their hands clasped to each other, and back up to Victors face.

“And you certainly never, never forget it.”

Victor let go of Yuuri’s hand, and instead reached around Yuuri’s shoulder, pulling him in as they walked. He leaned and kissed him on the temple, and they walked on.

They had a late lunch in a small café, then walked back in the direction of the ferry. Yuuri was tiring, but didn’t want to admit it. Turned out he didn’t have to, Victor knew. “Time to go back, I think. Enough activity for one day?” Yuuri smiled weakly and nodded. They were going to meet the ferry in a half hour anyway, Yuuri thinking that the day had really flown by.

They took the ferry back, and once inside the cabin Victor took his bags to his room while Yuuri took off his jacket and scarf, placing it on the coat tree by the door. Yuuri sank down on the sofa, sighing and relaxing, flexing his feet and stretching his legs.

Victor came out again, and laid down next to Yuuri on the couch, stretching his long frame out with his back to the arm of the sofa, his legs stretched out under Yuuri’s. “This was nice. Thank you for coming out with me Yuuri.” Victor put his hands behind his head, gazing at Yuuri with contentment.

“Thank you for taking me.” Yuuri was having a very hard time meeting Victor’s eyes, feeling shy all of the sudden. He had questions he wanted to ask. He had found that part of dealing with his anxiety was having simple concrete answers; anything vague would make him uneasy. One of the ways he had learned to deal with it was to make sure the people in his life understood this, Yuuri would clarify anything that fell in a grey area without hesitation now. But with Victor, he couldn’t. He knew what he wanted to ask, but he was afraid of the answers.

_Where do we go from here, if anywhere at all?_

_Is this the start of Something, or is it just closure for you?_

_Or something else altogether?_

Also, he wondered if Victor understood the Yuuri that he had known was gone, a different person than he was now. The Yuuri sitting here right now was older, not young and new.

And the whole cancer thing, can’t forget that. Not romantic. Not easy.

This made him start to feel less than again.

 _Just open your mouth and ask!_ Nope. _I can’t._

 

Victor brought one of his knees up, nudging Yuuri’s legs. “Yuuri, what’s on your mind?” Yuuri snapped his head around, looking at Victor in surprise. “What?”

Victor gave him a wry smile. “Some things don’t change. You are thinking hard about something and it’s making you anxious. What is it? Can I help?”

Yuuri blinked, and looked away. “A conversation for another time.”

Victor hummed and frowned. “Hmm. Okay. And I also remember that you are stubborn enough not to talk about something until you are ready, so I won’t press. But I am here when you finally decide to talk.”

Yuuri changed the subject. “I actually have a bit of work I could be doing right now, really should be doing actually.”

Victor sat up, looking interested. “What is it?”

“I have been thinking about Aliyah’s new short program. Trying to decide what direction to take it in. She can handle just about any jump or technical component you throw at her-and you wouldn’t guess that she is 14. But, she struggles with the emotion of her programs, embracing and expressing the feelings and the story. So one of the things I have tasked myself with is putting something together that challenges her with this.”

As Yuuri was talking, Victor had gone to the kitchen, and was bringing back bottled water and some pretzel sticks. He sat back down on the sofa, turned so that he was facing Yuuri, one leg tucked up and the other on the floor, bowl in his lap. He handed Yuuri water.

“Tell me about her.”

“She came from dance background-but not ballet. Her mother told me when we first met and talked about my becoming her coach that Aliyah had always made it clear that she dislikes traditional forms of dance. ‘Boring.’ She says. ‘Not my style.’ She liked urban style dance-and she is really, really good at it, soaks up new moves like a sponge. She discovered ice skating at around age 8, and was a natural from the beginning. Her previous coaches pushed her to do more traditional training, and she did under protest-her Mother says.”

Yuuri handed Victor his phone, a picture of the girl on it. She was tall for her age, slender, golden brown skin and clear green eyes. The picture was of a practice session, her curly hair bound back in long thick braid, some curls escaping the braid and flying about her head. She had a look of fierce intensity, caught in the moment of coming out of a jump, free leg extended, arms stretched out and her braid streaming behind her.

“She is stubborn, she is fearless, and she doesn’t give up. She works so tirelessly, and she is going to be _amazing,_ I just have to figure out how to get her to make that connection.”

Victor was smiling, handed back his phone.

“Have you listened to her music that she likes?”

Yuuri hesitated. “Yes, and she has good taste actually, she loves the oldies. Especially hip hop.”

“Maybe you should start there. Ask her to put together a short program with a song she likes most.” Victor smiled. “She is lucky to have you as a coach.”

It was Yuuri’s turn to smile. “I learned from the best.”

“You flatter me.”

“I meant Yakov.”

Victor tilted his head back and roared with approving laughter.

*****

Victor had to take care of some business, so he had retreated to his room for the afternoon. Yuuri took that opportunity to handle a few things himself. He caught up on some correspondence, then had a conference call with his staff, approving some items that were pending and reviewing the overall plans for the up and coming season. He brought up the subject of making appointments the following month with costumers and choreographers when there was an awkward pause on the line.

“Problem?” Yuuri asked, impatient.

Iva responded, reluctantly. “Coach, do you think we should be setting up appointments yet?”

Yuuri was confused. “Why? These people are always booked in advance, I want to make sure we have it all in place.”

“Coach…you don’t know if you will be, available at these times yet, do you?” Iva’s voice was quieter, and no one else was speaking.

And then Yuuri understood what she was driving at, and something in his abdomen clenched.

“Of course I will.”

Silence.

“OK let’s be clear on this. Yes, I have some test results pending. But I am fully confident that they will come back just fine. Let’s get this scheduling completed. I am not going to have anyone without a costume or music because we were distracted.” Yuuri paused, and then continued. “Does anyone have any questions? Let’s get them out now.”

Benjy answered. “Nope, nothing Coach. Bettania did you catch everything?” Bettania was Yuuri’s secretary/assistant and was in charge of the day to day, keeping everyone’s schedules straight and contacting all the various people that Yuuri’s team worked with. “Yep, got it.” Bettania replied.

Yuuri gave final instructions. “Ok so we are set. Before we go, I just wanted to tell you all that you are doing a terrific job. I am going to be out of pocket for the next couple of days, but if something comes up you can loop me in. I appreciate all of the hard work you are doing, and that I can trust you to keep things going while I am out.”

They said their goodbyes, he ended the call, and slumped.

“Yuuri?” Victor calling from the kitchen.

Yuuri plastered on a smile. “Coming!”

*****

They had settled on the porch swing, sitting close and a blanket wrapped around them.

“Yuuri, you said you would be receiving your results this week?” Victor asked after a silence fell between them.

“Yes, I am supposed to call tomorrow afternoon and check in.”

Victor’s hand brushed his. “Are you nervous?”

Yuuri sighed. “Yes and no. I have been through this before. If I am clear, great. If I’m not…well then we will look at what is next.”

“Has your doctor spoken with you about what you will do if the tests don’t indicate that your treatment worked?”

Yuuri looked at Victor; it was falling dark but he could make out his face plainly, the worried look and furrowed brow.

“I will have to go for more aggressive treatment. If I have to do that, I would have to have to spend less time coaching. My team, they are worried. But they are a good team, and if I have to I can instruct them remotely. Then if even that is not possible, I have other plans that we can fall back on. If, well if that ends up being necessary.”

Victor took Yuuri’s hand in his. “Yes, I am sure your team would be fine, but what about _you,_ Yuuri? It seems to me that you are making sure everyone is taken care of, but it is you I am asking about. Do you have anyone to be there for you?”

_I don’t want your pity._

“I’m fine. As I said, this isn’t the first time I have been through this, Victor. Don’t pity me.”

Victor’s hand tightened on his. “You think this is pity?”

Yuuri’s brows drew together. “Isn’t it?”

Victor was suddenly agitated; angry. “No. Yuuri it isn’t pity. I think about you having gone through this before, and you must have gone through it alone-”

Yuuri interrupted “I have friends-“

“I’m not talking about _friends_. At the end of the day Yuuri, you went through this alone before. And it breaks my heart, Yuuri. I can’t stand the idea of you being _alone_ and grappling with something like this. Someone should be there for you, holding you at night when you are scared or in pain, or helping you when you are ill. Giving you the love and care that you deserve!” Victor was speaking fast, angry.

“Victor, if you are talking about my family, Mom and Dad are elderly and Mari takes care of them, they can’t just drop everything and come running, so what are you driving at?”

Victor let go of Yuuri’s hand, and took Yuuri’s face in both of his hands, inches away and forcing Yuuri to look into his eyes. “I mean that someone should be there for you that _loves_ you and that is _devoted_ to you! You should always be loved and taken care of, Yuuri!”

He put his cheek to Yuuri’s, just for a moment, then pulled back to look at him again.

“ _I_ should have been there, Yuuri!” Victor enunciated this last very deliberately, breathe quick, eyes full of longing.

“Victor-“

Before Yuuri could finish, Victor cut him off with a desperate and sudden kiss, a demanding clash of lips and teeth. He wrapped his arms around Yuuri tightly, and crushed him to his chest. Victor’s mouth opening and forcing Yuuri’s mouth open, tongue searching for his. It was all sensations and no thought, Yuuri melting in Victor’s arms, Victor’s hands clenched and fisting the back of Yuuri’s jacket, commanding all of Yuuri’s mouth and making him shudder. Yuuri drew his arms around Victor’s waist, holding on tightly.

Victor broke away and then leaned in, skating kisses along Yuuri’s neck. Yuuri closed his eyes and sighed, leaning into it. Victor kissed him up to his temple, and placed his mouth there-an unfinished kiss, suspended in time. He held him like this, and Yuuri hugged him back, tears rising but unshed.

Victor rose, tossing the blanket off. He turned to face Yuuri and held out his hand silently.

A question, eyes full of emotion.

Yuuri took his hand and rose, then put his arms around Victor’s shoulders. Victor walked them into the cabin, stumbling as he was walking backwards.  Yuuri raining kisses wherever he could reach, shoulders, chest, neck, covering Victors face with them. They stumbled up the stair, fell into Yuuri’s bed, Yuuri on top of Victor now, leaning in and feverishly touching and kissing. Then Yuuri was sitting astride Victor, and unbuttoning his own shirt, looking into Victors eyes as he did so. Victor’s hands rose to Yuuri’s now bare chest, roaming up and then down, tugging Yuuri’s shirt off of his shoulders and tossing it to the floor.

Victor paused and cradled Yuuri’s face in his hands. “Are you sure?” Victor was shaking, speaking breathlessly.

“Yes.” Yuuri furiously nodded. “ _Yes_.”

And then both of them were lost to the aching want. In a tangle of lips and limbs, their bodies came together, rolling like thunder, lightning striking. When Yuuri reached the apex, looking into those blue eyes that were wide and unfocused with as much desire and pleasure as he himself was feeling, light exploded in front of his eyes in a bright flash, a roaring in his ears like a thunderclap, he was both unmade and made new again in the fraction of a second.

He threw himself back on the bed, gasping for air, and feeling really alive for the first time in so long. He turned his head on the pillow to see the other man. Victor was also gasping, spent with his arms thrown above his head, chest heaving. He looked over at Yuuri, eyes sparkling. “You are wonderful, wonderful.” He told Yuuri in between gasps. He grasped Yuuri’s hand, pulled it to his lips and kissed it, then held it to his chest. They eventually quieted, and Victor rolled over to lie on Yuuri’s chest, tracing his muscles with his forefinger lightly, face buried in Yuuri’s neck, murmuring so quietly words that Yuuri could not hear, but knew that he didn’t need to as he understood their meaning.

Yuuri’s arms came up to encircle Victor, feeling completely blissed out. He placed a soft kiss on top of Victors head.

“Wonderful.” He whispered back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Te amo sin saber como, ni cuándo, ni de donde,  
> te amo directamente sin problemas ni orgullo:  
> así te amo porque no sé amar de otra manera,  
> sino así de este modo en que no soy ni eres,  
> tan cerca que tu mano sobre mi pecho es mía,  
> tan cerca que se cierran tus ojos con mi sueño."
> 
> “I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where. I love you simply, without problems or pride: I love you in this way because I do not know any other way of loving but this, in which there is no I or you, so intimate that your hand upon my chest is my hand, so intimate that when I fall asleep your eyes close.” ~Pablo Neruda


	6. Thursday Morning

## Thursday Morning

 

When he woke, he didn’t open his eyes immediately. Something warm and heavy on his chest. Strands of hair just barely brushing at his neck and chin. An arm softly draped over his stomach, the fingers threaded through his own twitched slightly in sleep.  Legs tangled together, a warm hip snuggled up to his, and the memory of what had happened the night before came rushing back, bringing a smile to his face.

He cracked his eye open just a bit, and in the dark he could make out the line of the other man lying in the crook of his shoulder, hair tousled, breathing lightly and regularly, the soft warm exhales skating over his chest. His eyes traced the lines of shoulder, chest and hip, just a shadow against the darker room, but he knew this body as well as his own, even after all this time.

The last thing he wanted to do was wake him, so he continued to lie there, holding him. He curled his arm up and without moving his shoulder lightly brushed his cheek and temple with his hand. The sleeping man stirred a little, so he pulled his hand back and lay there for a while, savoring the feeling of holding the person that he would love until his life ended, whether it be sooner or later didn’t matter, because he had been given this, after all this time.

He stayed like that for a long time, just looking at him, holding him, half-believing this was a dream and he would wake up alone and disappointed again. How could someone hold on this many years? What did that even mean? Had anyone else ever loved someone that much? He didn’t know.

Eventually, he decided to get up to get the medicine and something to drink, so it would be ready when it was time. He gently eased his arm out from under the sleeping man, slowly and quietly so as not to wake him. Judging by how tired he must have been from not having a good restful sleep the night before, he probably needed as much as possible.

Quietly, quietly, tiptoeing down the step, and into the kitchen. The sun not up yet, just a quiet pre-dawn where the light is still ghosting over the world, making everything surreal, just slightly out of step with the daylight hours when the sun is warm and shining, and everything is in its place.

He could relate, he had been a ghost too, he realized, for years, slightly out of step with everything and everyone else.

Back up the stair with a glass of water, a plate of crackers and the pills, setting it silently on the bed table, and gently getting back into the bed, and under the covers, trying not to disturb. The sleeping man had curled into a ball while he was gone, head barely visible over the blanket. He pulled the blanket up to his neck and once his body had warmed back up, he pulled him back to his chest, sliding his arm under his head in one fluid motion. A sigh from the sleeper, curling into to him and snuggling into his shoulder.

Eventually, he watched the sun rise, the ghostly light leaving as the rays came bursting through and making everything gilded with gold, the sky red-orange, then pink, then the lightest blue. He had always been an early riser. He loved early morning best, and watching the sun rise was the best part of the day. No matter where he was; home or traveling, he would watch the sun rise and enjoy the peace that came with it.

“I love you.” He whispered into the tousled head of hair. “I always have, you know. I always will. I tried so hard to let you go. But it has always been you.”

Birds chirping, the sky had finally settled into the true pale blue of spring.

The sleeper stirred, and sighed. “What time is it?” in a sleep-slurred voice.

He kissed the soft head of hair again. “Early. Go back to sleep.”

The sleepy man tilted his head back, eyes still closed, “Mm, you’re here.” Eyes opening to show the beautiful brown hinted with gold, the eyes that had not changed over the years, he had memorized their shape and color long ago, and they had haunted his dreams every since. The eyes widened and his shoulder was gripped tightly. “You’re here?”

“Da. As are you. Good morning, solnyshka.” Victor smiled down at him, stroking his hair.

*****

 

He set coffee to going, and as it was burbling and chuffing, and the tea steeping, he stood leaning against the counter, arms crossed and looking at the floor.

He had received the phone call Tuesday before last, Yurio asking him if he would come to his cabin, and then dropped the bombshell on him.

“Yuuri is coming.”

He said nothing, shocked into silence.

“Did you hear me Victor?”

“Yes, but I don’t understand. Yuuri is going to be there?”

“Yes.”

“And he knows you are inviting me?”

“He needs you to come.”

Victor closed his eyes, put his hands up to them and exhaled deeply, trying to clear his head. He couldn’t be hearing this right. Or understanding what Yurio was saying correctly, it was the only explanation.

“I don’t think I understand.”

“Look, I told you. He needs you to come. He is coming to stay at our cabin for a week. He’s, well-he needs a break. And he needs you.” Yurio continued. “It won’t just be you, Chris is coming, Phichit is going to try but that isn’t firmed up yet. Becka and I. Can you come?”

“I, um...”

“What do you have happening that is so important that you can’t do this?” Yurio downshifted. “Ok, Ok, I have kind of sprung this on you, I get it. We need you to come if you can. Think about it. Call me back tonight, let me know. Just don’t…don’t be an idiot OK?” And just like that Yurio ended the call.

And that was Yurio. Getting right to the point, blunt as ever.

Victor stood and looked out his window, tapping his finger to his lip.

This can’t be real.

He pinched himself.

Ok maybe it’s real.

Yuuri wanted Victor to come to him.

He had to grab the window ledge for support, his legs feeling weak and he feared he would fall from the jumble of thoughts that hit him all at once.

Yuuri laughing, Yuuri smiling, Yuuri skating, Yuuri underneath him with a private slow smile. The sun shining down as he held Victors hand and pulled them into the waves at the beach, holding him tight in the night, whispering and raspy asking Victor to never let go, stay close. Yuuri’s head in Victors lap while Victor read from a book, his eyes looking up but far away, caught up in the story that Victor spun. Yuuri worried and nervous, hanging onto Victors hand so tightly, as if he were an anchor in the sea of people that were pressing in and making Yuuri anxious. Victor making up silly stories about the people surrounding them, distracting Yuuri, making him laugh and Yuuri wasn’t scared anymore. Little rituals and games that they shared, Yuuri with smiling eyes and shaking with laughter.

Yuuri upset that Victor had missed dinner again. Yuuri angrily saying that Victor wasn’t there when he needed him, Yuuri with unshed tears trying to hold it together after another argument. Yuuri silent, refusing to look at him.

Victor remembering the exact moment when he knew they were broken. Yuuri hard and unyielding, looking out the window. Words not being able to bridge the divide.

It’s really over, isn’t it?

Victor realizing that the sound of a broken heart isn’t shattering like glass or a muscle tearing from its arteries like a ship from its moorings. The sound of a heart breaking is cold silence while the brown eyes that you loved and knew so well didn’t acknowledge pleas or begging, cold brown eyes and firm lips in a hard line, the person you love simply walking out the door and not looking back. The sound of a heart breaking irreparably was horrid silence followed by a door closing, the quiet click of the striker sliding into the latch.

And he hadn’t recovered. Not really. Oh he could go on working, making beautiful dances for ice skaters to perform, he could travel the world over with a bright smile and a friendly handshake, exploring the flora that the exotic and not so exotic places he had visited offered. His beauty loving eyes learning to recognize the different types of flowers he encountered.

And never had he found something so lovely as his Yuuri spinning on the ice, losing himself in the music and becoming something otherworldly, taking Victor’s breath away. He had tried to forget, to extract Yuuri from his life. Nothing worked. Nothing made him forget. A phantom limb, that was what Yuuri had become.

He would wake at night with tears on his face, a heaviness so intense that he couldn’t catch his breath. He would trudge through the days of his life, fleeting surface enjoyments but aching underneath.

He had tried dating others, and when that didn’t work (and it never worked, there was always something lacking) he had taken to drinking. He stopped that because he could see the slippery slope he was heading towards, and it didn’t fill the void anyway. Too much partying, his friends would say, and he had to agree, because that wasn’t satisfying. He traveled extensively, not able to stand to be in his own home for more than a few days because of the silence that was too loud and rooms that echoed with the emptiness.

He had finally resigned himself to the fact that no one and nothing could fill that empty spot. The something that was lacking wasn’t in others, it was in himself.

And, because he was the worst kind of fool, he followed Yuuri’s life. Any bit of information that he could glean from their mutual friends, the media, anywhere that the information would come from, he would hungrily absorb it, poring over it at moments when he could be alone, attempting to fill that never-ending void. But, Yuuri was a private person, and the information that he could gain was not detailed about his personal life. Their mutual friends were not good sources either; they wouldn’t speak too much as they thought eventually Victor would recover and at the same time trying walk the fine line between them both and respect Yuuri’s confidentiality. His friends had gently but firmly let him know that Yuuri refused to speak of Victor that Yuuri was done with that part of his life.

But he continued and over the years he had watched Yuuri’s rise to being the best coach in skating. Yuuri smiling out at him from the magazines, newspapers or online media, triumphant. It was a grim triumph though, more often than not. Not the pure happiness that he had known Yuuri’s smiles could contain. Or so he would tell himself. Glimpses into Yuuri’s life-that was all - and nothing more. Yuuri’s name was never linked to a lover, not in public anyway, and Victor was grateful, because if he had seen Yuuri find someone else to share his life with, it would have been unbearable.

Time had passed, it always does. But it ceased to matter to Victor and he marked the passage of time with anniversaries that were no longer celebrated, these were landmarks that no one else remembered, dead flowers laid away in books, losing their scent, colors fading to brown and grey.

His friends, the people he loved, would include him in their life- when he let them. Yurio and Ota would invite him to stay, Chris would urge him to come away with him to ‘have fun’, and Victor’s answer more often than not was that he was too busy, some other time maybe? But they persisted, hanging on to him and forcing themselves in his life. These were his family, or the closest thing he had to one since his parents had passed.

All of this and more jumbling and tumbling, he pressed his forehead to the window, the cool of the glass soothing him.

He had called Yurio back, asked for the details. Of course he would come. Yuuri wanted him and he would be there, it was not possible to decline. He had packed the night of his trip with shaking hands, distracted, rumpling his own hair until it was a mess and standing on end, trying to make sure he had what he needed. And he had packed the most special thing he owned along with the clothes and the toiletries. It was nothing more than hope. Hope in a small box that he had carried with him for years.

Chris had met him part of the way through the journey, traveled with him. He had peppered Chris with questions along the way. Chris had not shared much, which was maddening, so he resigned himself to waiting.

When they had arrived at the cabin that morning, he had been so nervous, so afraid. What was he going to say? What would Yuuri say to him? He hoped that he was equal to whatever Yuuri asked for, he would deny him nothing. He would not lose this chance again, and hold on with all of his might.

And then the door had opened, and Yuuri was there. Yuuri with shocked brown eyes, Yuuri who was so thin and pale, he was barely there. Yuuri had said his name, and then he had fallen.

Once, long ago, when Victor was young, he had been walking with his mother and father down a busy street. His mother had been laughing at his father’s teasing, not looking, and had nearly walked out in front of a bus. His father had grabbed her at the last minute and pulled her back just in time. It had been so close. His father had yelled her name, they had caught each other, both shaking and hugging. Just a fraction of a second later and his mother would have been lost. It was that close. Young Victor had realized what this meant, how close he had come to losing her, and he had cried, so scared. He had been young but the shiver of what could have happened ghosted through him. So close to losing Mama.

When Yuuri fell, so thin, so pale, obviously ill, Victor thought he had lost him. And he felt that same fear. _Too late!_ A voice cried in his brain. _Too late you waited too long and it’s too late! You were a coward and it’s too late now!_

He had never been so relieved in his life when he realized Yuuri had only fainted, but that relief didn’t last, only to be replaced with the dull horror that Yuuri was so gravely ill. That whole night was disjointed flashes in his memory, fragmented and the only whole picture that he had was the realization that his friends had brought them together not because Yuuri wanted him there, but because there was a chance that Yuuri would slip away and they would never be able to tell each other anything at all.

That night when they came back to the cabin from the dock, he went to his room, he was practically running, shut the door swiftly. And fell to his knees, head in his hands. That bus had come along again and was threatening to snatch away the only thing in his life that mattered. Silent sobs, he tipped over his head still in his hands and his hands touching the floor. Repeating to himself ‘no, no you cannot be taken away from me, not like this. Not like this. Not like this.’ And finally a thought came to him. Never is a long, long time.

He had crawled up to the bed finally, curling up and finally, mercifully sleep had come. The following morning he had woken before the sun, like always. He had ghosted through the cabin, and when he realized that his restless pacing might wake Yuuri he had made himself sit, sip coffee, and look at pictures on the wall.

One of the pictures had Yurio and Ota’s young daughter Kat with Yuuri. They were laughing and smiling, sitting together in a sunny spot having a picnic somewhere in the distant past. Yuuri smiling down and Kat smiling up, happy.

He sat, sipped and looked at that picture. And he decided then and there that it didn’t matter to him if Yuuri had wanted him there or not, he would never leave him again, never leave him alone. He would camp on his doorstep if he had to, but he would never leave him again. He could only hope that Yuuri would feel the same and not push him away. If they had two hours, two months, two years, however long they had he would be there.

And now his coffee was ready, and Yuuri’s tea was steeped. This morning had been wonderful, Victor was scared to breathe wrong, treading with hushed steps, not wanting to break the spell that had woven around them. He scooped up both mugs and headed up the stairs, to his Yuuri.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The question has ceased to be  
> “How do I love you?”  
> and has become  
> “How would I ever stop?”  
> ~ec


	7. Thursday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I don't want to spoil the chapter by giving hints, but I feel obligated to give a warning about this one: 
> 
> There is a depiction of a panic attack. As a past sufferer of these I have described-partly-what mine were like. I didn't want anyone to read this and not have a warning; Here, I have tried to emphasize how to get through one rather than give too many details or draw it out unnecessarily, but I didn't exactly sugarcoat it either.They suck, not to put to fine a point on it.
> 
> If you don't find errors in this one it will be a blue-eyed wonder; it was difficult to write because reasons.

## Thursday

“What time is it?”

Victor looked at his watch. “Five of 3.”

He and Yuuri had spent the largest part of the morning in bed, talking, telling stories of the past, laughing. They had also had contented silences, and reacquainted themselves with each other by soft touches; this time a light stroke of fingers down a thigh, that time a whispered wish in the ear. Making new memories.

At one point, Yuuri had his head propped on his elbow looking down into Victors face as he lay contentedly, eyes closed and a sleepy smile on his lips, seeing that time had not stopped after all, the fine lines around eye and brow- and yet, still seeing the same beloved face from when they were young, the face in his memory and the face he saw now melding into one and becoming even more beautiful because of it. 

It had taken his breath away, and he felt grateful. He could hardly believe this was real, and had so much he wanted to ask, there were still things to say and understandings to be gained, but for right now, just having this was enough.

They had eventually left the bed and went about the little routine they had established in the past few days, and Yuuri had eventually become more distracted until Victor must have sensed it, and so just fell to watching him, and trying to do what he could to help him relax.

Currently they were sitting side by side on the porch in the swing, Yuuri’s right leg was lightly shaking; one of his tells of nervousness. Victor placed a hand on his knee, and Yuuri turned and smiled a brief smile.

“Well, it’s that time.” Yuuri trying not to betray his worry, silently willing Victor to stay by his side for this. Please, please, Victor stay.

Victor said nothing, but his hand stayed on Yuuri’s knee and he squeezed it lightly. He nodded to Yuuri, and Yuuri put it on speaker, then dialed the number.

“Hello Tosh Oncology, Delilah speaking, how may I help you?”

  
Yuuri smiled. “Hey there, Delilah, what’s it like in New York City?” he sang, as he always did when he greeted Delilah.

Chuckling on the other end, and Delilah dropped the professional-speak. “Don’t I wish I was there? Hey, Yuuri, how are you today?”

“Pretty good, I’m calling from a very pretty spot with a view of the trees and water, enjoying a mini break.” Yuuri and Delilah knew each other well and she had dropped ‘Mr. Katsuki’ long ago.

“Are my test results in?”

“Well, I know Dr. Pavel is expecting your call. I will put you right through.”

“Thanks!”

There was a click, and some hold music that Yuuri didn’t recognize played. He held the phone in his lap, and Victor reached out, took Yuuri’s hand in his, lacing their fingers together firmly. With his other arm he encircled Yuuri’s shoulders, as if to lend any strength he could.

The line rang through and a click. “Hello, Yuuri. How’s the vacation? Are you enjoying it?” The doctor’s voice was rich and deep; Yuuri often thought that if Dr. Pavel’s medical career ever went bust, he could become a radio personality with no problems.

“Hi Doctor. Yes, it is probably something I should have done a long time ago.” He had told Dr. Pavel that he was taking a vacation and would call in for the testing results, and the doctor had consented, since this was not a new experience for Yuuri.

“That’s great. You are with friends, yes?” The doctor had consented once Yuuri had told him that he would be with friends and not alone.

“I have a very good…friend here with me, yes.” The pause before the word friend was almost imperceptible, as Yuuri wasn’t quite sure what to say about Victor and his relationship right now. He was looking at Victor as they spoke, and Victor smiled, his arm hugging Yuuri’s shoulders.

“That’s good, I am glad you are taking a break- you work entirely too hard and too much. As for the tests, I did hear from the lab this morning, and there is an issue.”

Yuuri closed his eyes briefly and bit his lip, his eyes flitted to Victor. Victor was looking back, his expression not wavering, calm and strong. Yuuri had been through this long enough and knew Dr. Patel well enough that if he said Yuuri would need to come in for further testing and review, then that would mean that he wasn’t clear.

“What’s the issue?” Yuuri’s voice was sharper than he meant it to be.

“The tests they ran were inconclusive. I have asked them to run a couple of more. I am hoping to get those results back very soon as I asked for expedite.”

“So what does this mean? I’m not clear am I?” Blue eyes, holding him up, keeping him from falling.

“Yuuri, I don’t want you to read anything into this. This doesn’t mean anything bad; in fact it doesn’t mean anything at all. What we mean by inconclusive is the tests simply couldn’t find anything one way or the other. This happens sometimes. I have ordered some different diagnostics instead.”

“Do I have to come in for blood draw or scans?” Victor’s hand holding his, a comforting squeeze.

“Not right now. These tests springboard off of the others.”

“When will we know something?”

“I should have the results tomorrow, Yuuri. We have your contact number, correct?”

“Yes.”

“Good. I will call you when I have them back and have reviewed them.”

“Ok then.”

“Yuuri?”

“Yes, Doctor?”

“Try to enjoy your holiday. Don’t stress too much over this. _This does not mean bad news_.”

“Thank you.”

And there must have been something in Yuuri’s voice, as the doctor said, “What I need for you to do is continue taking your meds, resting when you need to rest and eating correctly. Do you have any other questions for me right now?”

“Not that I can think of, thank you Doctor Patel.”

“You will receive a call from us tomorrow, even if the results are not back yet, just to touch base. I’m sorry for this delay, Yuuri. I know it must be disappointing.”

“Thanks. I appreciate it.”

Yuuri rang off, and sighed. “Well, that’s that, I guess.” He tossed his phone on the little table, and slumped back in the swing, placing a trembling free hand over his eyes.

Victor pulled him closer and placed a soft kiss on the top of his head, his lips not leaving the spot once there. Rocking gently, Victor humming a soft lullaby, and the wind moving the tops of the trees.

*****

They had stayed like that for a while, and then Victor had risen, pulling Yuuri up with him. “Come with me.” Victor had said, and Yuuri followed. They went into the cabin and Victor made tea while Yuuri sat at the counter. Victor brought the tea over, handed it to Yuuri and said, “I want your help with something.”

Yuuri looked up, confused. “With what?”

Victor held up a finger motioning Yuuri to wait, and went to his room.

_What was he up to? Help with what? Doesn’t Victor understand the last thing I want to do is work things. I will be useless until tomorrow._

Victor returned with his tablet and a notebook. He sat down on a stool next to Yuuri, pushing the countertop nick-knacks out of the way, setting the tablet in front of Yuuri.

“I’m working on something. It’s new, and it’s challenging. I have been kicking an idea around for a while now, a program that is completely different than the current trends or anything that has come before. I wondered if you would look it over with me, see what you think?” Victor paused, looked at Yuuri with a questioning, hesitant smile. _Is this ok?_ His expression said.

_WAS it ok? Hell yes._ Yuuri was intrigued. He knew that Victor’s work was synonymous with ‘revolutionary’; Victor pushed the boundaries of the sport, throwing down a gauntlet of challenge early in his career as a professional choreographer by pushing right up to the edge of allowable, then lightly tiptoeing over that edge, daring the ISU to say no. It had been he, along with some other coaches and athletes who had been behind the first serious push to petition the ISU to allow female quads, and they had won. It hadn’t stopped there; this had been the catalyst, experts agreed, that led to every year more and more opportunities opening to the female skating world. The whole sport- men, women, dance, team- had gained a much bigger, wider audience base, new fans flocking to it every year for both the artistry and the daring, difficult elements. Victor had not done this singlehandedly of course, and if you asked him he would modestly state he was happy to help. But the truth was, he had been key; his input, charm, persuasive skills invaluable. People had started to catch on that he was a multi-faceted individual and not just a pretty face, not ‘only’ the living legend from back in the day.

Victor’s choreography was considered the best – hands down. Athletes and coaches vied for an opportunity to work with him; he never made a similar program twice, always choosing to push into unexplored territory, coupled with the knack he had for designing the programs to fit that particular athlete’s personality, musical choices, and style perfectly.

So if Victor said he was working on something completely different, Yuuri was very interested in seeing what it could possibly be.

“I understand that you also support the current push to make the competitions non-binary?” Victor asked.

Yuuri’s head snapped up quickly. “Yes.” Yuuri paused, eyes widened. “Is what you are working on tied to that?”

Victor smiled. “Absolutely.”

Victor started by showing Yuuri all that he had done so far, and Yuuri quickly became absorbed, eventually lost in the work. Yuuri forgot about everything else, except what was in front of him, becoming more excited by the possibilities that Victor was unveiling, late into the night until they had both gone to bed, collapsing in contented exhaustion.

Yuuri turned over on his side to face Victor, who was carding his fingers through Yuuri’s hair and humming softly.

“Thank you.”

Victor looked surprised. “For what?”

“For being here with me.” _Even if it is just for now, even if it isn’t forever, I’m grateful._

Victor smiled, and put his hand on Yuuri’s cheek, softly stroking with his finger, then grazing his lips gently down Yuuri’s temple. “I don’t want to be anywhere else.”

*****

Yuuri sat up with a start. Breaking from Victors embrace, throwing off the blanket, sheets, feeling like he was smothering. He looked around the room, eyes wide and adrenaline coursing through his body, making his muscles feel like they were exploding. Dizzy and shaking, his heart had hit the thud-thud, thud-thud pounding a rhythm of fear.

Victor sat up. “Yuuri what is it?”

“I don’t know.” Yuuri huffed, his breath was coming fast and shallow.

_DAMNIT!_

Victor tried to wrap his arms around him. “It’s going to be ok-“

“ _Don’t_.” Yuuri pulled away from Victor closed his eyes and clenched his fists.

_Just slow the breathing down. Slow down._

Yuuri could feel himself slipping, it was an all too familiar feeling. Fragments of his dream sliding past like a movie sped up, ripped to bits and spliced together. The doctor saying that he was not clear and in fact beyond treatment. Victor hearing this and turning away, leaving him alone. Friends at his bedside telling him to let go, let go, end the suffering. Horrible, terrible pieces jumbled in a nightmare kaleidoscope, tumbling in random order.

The circular thoughts, his internal monologue panicked, manic- _I’m not clear, I’m not clear. The treatments didn’t work and the next set of tests will come back showing it isn’t better or even worse it has spread and I will have to make the choice of more treatment that will just prolong things or no treatment and resign myself- I’m not clear. It isn’t gone and won’t be my body is a traitor and I’m not CLEAR-_

Yuuri’s fingers were starting to tingle, his core shaky now, and he was unable to stop the feeling, knew what it was but still _unable to make it stop_. The panic gripped him in its clutches, squeezing his chest, making him sweat, tears coursing down his face. His skin felt itchy, unpleasant crawling sensations on his body. His heart still thudding out of time, loud in his ears and he can’t hear anything except the thuds.

“What do you need?” A calm voice, soothing, reaching him from across a distance.

“Minute.” Yuuri managed to gasp.

Yuuri closed his eyes.

_Breathe in through the nose. Out through the mouth. Slow._

He did this several times, slowing down his heart rate and gaining oxygen instead of blowing it off. His heart would start the thudding and he would do this again.

_Clear your mind._

_Picture the ice. Hear the sound of the blades cutting through it, quiet and cool ice._

Yuuri pushed away the negative thoughts, thinking of the ice and the blades, and then a song, hearing its gentle notes and concentrating on that.

Yuuri laid back on the bed, arms and hands at his sides.

_Tense every muscle of your face and head. Tight. Tighter. Hold it. Then release. Tense the shoulders and chest, tight. Tighter. Then release._

He went through one section at a time, tensing and relaxing every part of his body and ending with his legs and feet.

 

Yuuri could feel the panic subsiding, like waves that had crashed in and were ebbing away. He took his time; he knew that you could not rush this process.

 

Finally, Yuuri opened his eyes, tears still sliding down and hitting his pillow here and there,  and turned his head to look at Victor, who was sitting up and watching, obviously wanting to help, but remembering enough to know that all he could do is be there for him.

 

Yuuri saw the worry in Victor’s eyes, and it shouldn’t have but made him feel slightly ashamed, and looked away. “Sorry.”

“No.” Victor gently pulled Yuuri’s face back, looking him in the eyes. His voice was gentle. “You have absolutely nothing to be sorry for, are you feeling better?”

“Yes, it was a panic attack.” Yuuri paused. “I don’t get them often anymore. Just stress.”

Victor nodded, lightly carding his fingers through Yuuri’s hair, the other hand on his forearm, running his thumb comfortingly in circles. “I remember.”

Victor moved his hand from Yuuri’s forearm to his hand, took it and grasped it gently.

“What can I do?” Victor asked simply.

 Yuuri grasped Victors hand back, pulling Victor down to the bed so their eyes were level, and then pulled Victor close.

“Just stay with me. Just be here.” Yuuri was starting to feel flat, depressed. Another thing that happened after the attacks, it would pass.

Victor hugged him tightly, then reached down and pulled the blankets up over them. He moved Yuuri to put his back against Victor’s chest, and put his arm around Yuuri, pulling him tight against him.

“I’m here, and not going anywhere. Yuuri, there is nowhere else I want to be.”

“Talk to me.” Yuuri asked.

“What about?”

“A-anything.” Yuuri choked a sob back, unable to say more.

Victor was stroking Yuuri’s arm, his temple, light caresses to sooth.

“There were once two young Aztecs, named Xochitl and Hutzilin. When they were children, they would often play together, seeking each other’s company as they were like-minded, enjoying the same things. As they grew, more and more they realized that they did not want to be apart; they wanted to only ever be together, until death and even after.

They started a ritual. Every day they would climb the nearby mountain and take offerings to the Sun God, Tonatiuh, and pray that the God would accept the offerings and honor their request to always be with each other. Their love grew stronger, and day after day, year after year they would make this pilgrimage. Until the time that war came to their land. Hutzilin, who was a strong warrior, was called to go help defend their land, leaving Xochitl behind.

Soon after, Xochitl had learned that Hutzilin had died. Her grief was overwhelming; she knew that she could not go on without Hutzilin.

So she climbed to the top of the mountain, tears blurring her eyes, her sadness a great weight in her heart. She reached the summit, and she lay down, prostrate, and begged Tonatiuh to reunite them. She did not care if it meant her crossing to the land of the dead, or bringing Hutzilin back, so long as they were together.

Tonatiuh looked down, and seeing Xochitl’s grief, and recalling their offerings, took pity on Xochitl and with his rays he transformed her into a beautiful budded flower, bright as the sun, bright as his own self.

Almost at once, a bird with beautiful silver wings, moving so fast they almost could not be seen, came to the flower bud, and delicately, gently, touched the center of the flower. It was Hutzilin, brought back from the land of the dead as a hummingbird. When Hutzilin touched the flower, it bloomed, with 20 perfect and beautiful petals opening, looking just like Tonatiuh itself, bright, gold and stunning in its beauty. It is the cempasuchil flower, also called marigold. Tonatiuh decreed that Xochitl and Hutzilin would always be together as long as there were hummingbirds and cempasuchil flowers on Earth.”

Yuuri had been silently listening. He felt calmer, sleepy again. The story was sad and yet- it wasn’t. It was a story of a love that had died only to be reborn.

“This is the flower you were telling me about when we went on our walk?”

Victor nodded.

“Tell me about the flower. What is it?” He could feel Victors smile curve at his temple.

“In Mexico it is known as _las flores de los muertos_ , the flower of the dead. According to what I was told, the spirits when they move on go far away, and in order to lure them back, you need bright colors, and a strong irresistible aroma. These flowers are used for altars and as decorations during _el Día de los Muertos_ , to symbolize not only that love does not die, that we cannot really be separated forever, even in death, but also to call back loved ones who have moved on, if only for one day.”

Yuuri turned this over in his mind. “This story is beautiful.”

“I thought so as well. That is where I got my start in my obsessive love of flowers and the stories behind them.”

“You’d think it would be depressing. But, it’s…comforting. Somehow.”

Victor whispered into his ear. “Perhaps because when people love each other that much, time or distance become irrelevant. Nothing truly separates two people who love like that.”

Yuuri turned this over in his mind. Yes, he could believe that to be true. Here in the dark, with the moonlight pouring in, being held closely and tightly by the one he had loved for so long.

“Victor, I need to ask you something.” Yuuri turned over to face Victor; he needed to see his eyes, and the moonlight provided enough illumination, giving Victor’s face and eyes a ghostly luminescence. Yuuri could almost believe that Victor was nothing but a ghost, a fancy that he had conjured to comfort himself.

Victor said, “Ask.” He stroked Yuuri’s cheek, hair, temple.

“Are we, is this...” _I need to know. I need to know if this is temporary, or if this is Something._

Victor brought his forehead to Yuuri’s, looking into his eyes. “Yuuri, do you not know?”

Yuuri shook his head slightly, looking back and drowning in the ghostly blue.

Victor’s voice no more than a whisper. “I am here I wanted to come to you, oh- so many times. And I was afraid. Afraid you would say no, afraid you would reject me and I could not bear that. But Yuuri,” He paused, throat working, tears welling. “I cannot leave you now.” And before Yuuri could say anything, Victor placed a finger on his lips. “I won’t leave you because it would be the end of me. I am here, and I am staying. You can’t send me away. It isn’t pity. It isn’t obligation.”

Victor cradled Yuuri’s face with his hand.

“Yuuri- I love you, you must know that. More than anything, and more than anyone. It has always…been…you.” He emphasized the last, the tear finally giving way and sliding down his cheek.

Yuuri let out a sob of relief. “That’s good, because I need you. And I love you, too.”

More whispers, words  that had been held back for years, thoughts that were voiced now, making Yuuri feel lighter in spite of everything, until sleep took them, Yuuri wrapped in Victor’s arms, perfectly content to be there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have loved the legend of the Mexican Marigold since I first read about it, and I do recognize that for some it might be a depressing or sad story. To me it is not; it is one of love reborn, and I can never be sad about that.
> 
> And here is a lovely [song](https://youtu.be/f9bRmuP-kQY) by Ben Folds-I absolutely adore it. It seemed right at home here in this chapter.
> 
> Thank you for reading, staying with me.  
> I promise you in the end, these two will be happy.


	8. Friday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nope.  
> as River would say-*spoilers*

## Friday 

_Yuuri zipped his bags, paused and looked around the room. Pictures of Victor and Yuuri on the walls, the dresser, the bedside table. Glimpses of captured time, some with friends at little gatherings, more of just the two of them, smiling at each other or the camera, exotic locales and domestic places- In the pictures, they were never far from each other, touching or glancing. The pictures were everywhere, making Yuuri’s heart break a little more with each look._

_He went to the bedside table where he had placed his ring earlier, and picked up a small framed one. This had been a picture Phichit had captured during a gathering of friends, around the time Victor and Yuuri had moved into this place. They were sitting on a bench in a park, the sun filtering through the trees above. Victor leaning back with his arm up on the back of the bench, Yuuri sitting sideways next to him, leaning back on Victors shoulder, legs drawn up to his chest. Phichit had captured it perfectly, as Yuuri’s head was tilted up and back, eyes closed, enjoying the bit of sun, Victor’s eyes were closed too, head turned slightly and kissing the top of Yuuri’s head._

_Yuuri choked back a sob that threatened to tear from him and ruin his resolve._

_Yuuri took the picture, unzipped one bag and placed it in, then zipped it again. He glanced down at the ring, and he could not bear it any longer, he had to go. He picked up his bags and walked out of the bedroom, with deliberate steps, head hung to his chest._

_Victor was standing in the living room, hands in his pockets, looking at Yuuri with eyes full of heartbreak._

_“Yuuri.” Barely a whisper._

_Yuuri paused. If he didn’t keep walking he knew he would dissolve into tears and stay, and things would just get worse, they would keep hurting each other. If he left now, if they made it a clean break, he reasoned, at least they would have the memories unspoiled. He couldn’t stay and watch everything they had become ugly and twisted._

_Yuuri walked on, opened the door and not looking back, went through and shut it. He dropped his bags from his shoulder to hold them in his hand, turned and put his other hand to the door, this door that they had painted blue when they had moved in. A joke, in a way, Victor reasoning that their friends would have no problem finding their place this way. He looked over the door, running his hand over it. Scuff marks at the bottom from holding it open with their feet when they brought in groceries or packages. His fingers felt the paint, the fine grooves from the brush strokes. And in the top center, he could feel the small heart under the paint. A sticker that Yuuri had placed there when they were painting, to symbolize all of the love that lay behind that door. They had painted it in and now it was captured there._

_He leaned forward and put his forehead on that small sigil that had somehow lost its magic._

_And he felt/heard the thump and slide on the other side. Victor was there, and he knew that Victor had leaned against it and slid down to the floor, heard the muffled sobs. His heart raged, he wanted to go back in, this was a mistake. Was this really HAPPENING? Somewhere a little voice in his mind was screaming “Take it back! Take it back! Don’t go!” but he squelched it, moved his bags up to his shoulder again, and left._

 

**8:30 VM Received 26 seconds:**

_“Hello Yuuri, it’s Delilah at Doctor Patel’s office. Doctor is going to be calling you at 2:00 your time to go over your results. Please do call me back if this time is not convenient and we can schedule it differently. You can call me on my extension at number 5123, please. Thank you Yuuri, again, um, let me know if this doesn’t work…thanks.”_

*****

 

**9:07 PlisAltin:**

Katsudon, how are you? Heard from doc yet?

 

**9:08 Yura:**

Old man, how are you? You’re still there right?

 

**9:15 PlisAltin:**

??Hello?? Yuuri? Any news?

 

**9:15 Yura:**

You going to answer? How is he? Are you with him?

 

**9:21 Yura:**

If you don’t answer back soon I’m going to come there.

 

**9:22 Yura:**

Don’t make me come there. I will kick your ass up between

your shoulderblades!

 

**9:22 Yura:**

You’re old and slow.

It would be easy.

**9:26 Old Man**

We’re ok.

Test results inconclusive so

they are running more.Yuuri has a call

with doc @ 14:00. Will let you

know when we know.

Send good thoughts.

 

**9:27 Yura:**

Damn. Ok.

Is he alright?

Everyone’s asking.

 

**9:30 Old Man**

Yes. He’s managing.

Trying to distract him.

**9:31 Yura:**

Distract? How?

**9:32 Old Man**

Ummm...   _',:)_

****

**9:32 Yura:**

  1. Hell. No. Forget I asked that
  2. Glad things are going well though
  3. Let me know asa you hear.



 

**9:35 Yura:**

And tell Yuuri- just tell him we’re here.

If he needs anything. At all.

 ‘K?

*****

 

 

“Yuuri, are you listening?” Yuuri had been in deep thought, stirring his tea, and Victor waved a hand in front of his face.

“Huh? Oh sorry, I was just thinking.”

“What about?”

Yuuri grimaced. “Nothing important.”

Victor stood and came around the counter, sat down next to Yuuri and put a hand gently on Yuuri’s stirring hand to stop the motion, pulled Yuuri’s hand to his lips and kissed it. Putting their linked hands down on the counter, he said, “Important or not, what is it?”

_I don’t know if I can put you through this. If it isn’t good news…_

Yuuri heaved a deep breath. “Victor, what if the news, what if it isn’t good?”

Victor frowned, and squeezed Yuuri’s hand.

“Yuuri, we don’t know what it is going to be yet. Let’s see what your doctor says first, and then we will go from there.”

Yuuri turned to look into Victors eyes. “Are you ready for this?” He paused. “Be honest.” Yuuri looked down at their linked hands.

And Victor did not have to ask for clarification to know what Yuuri meant. He turned on the stool to face Yuuri, pulled him up and close, put his hands gently on either side of Yuuri’s face, forcing Yuuri to look at him.

“No matter what the doctor says, Yuuri, I am here.” So close, Yuuri could see his own reflection in Victor’s eyes, a small anxious face, wide worried eyes. Victor made his next words very deliberate, emphasized and slow. “ _And. I. am. not. leaving._ ” Victor kissed his forehead, just a light brush of lips. “I could never” light kiss on the left cheekbone “be away from” light kiss on the right cheekbone “you again.” Victor kissed Yuuri’s chin, then forehead, then drew back, looking into Yuuri’s eyes again.

“ _Ne mogu zhit’ bez tebya_.”

Yuuri felt the tears coming, couldn’t stop them. One rolled down his cheek, and Victor kissed it away, then hugged him tighter, pulling Yuuri to his chest. Yuuri held Victor tight, arms around his shoulders, so scared to let go.

_Same for me. I don’t even want to try._

*****

 

_Victor had just finished vacuuming, and hearing music playing like it always was on housekeeping days, looked over at Yuuri cleaning the windows._

_He smiled to himself, walked over, tapped Yuuri on the shoulder and as Yuuri turned to him sketched a little bow. “May I have the honor?” Yuuri had laughed. “You’re nuts.” Victor had taken him by the waist and pulled him to the center of the room, waltzing Yuuri around. Yuuri laughing as he held the window cleaner in one hand and the cloth in the other. “This isn’t even a waltz, Vitya.” Yuuri had wrapped his arms around Victor’s shoulders, still holding the cleaner and cloth, slowing their dance to nothing more than a sway, their bodies close, placing a soft kiss on Victor’s lips, the kiss deepening. Victor’s response had been to sweep him up in his arms, and Yuuri had laughed again as Victor took him up the stairs, Yuuri just managing to drop the cleaning items on the table as they passed by._

They had finished a light lunch, in which neither one had eaten much, and were cleaning up afterwards. Yuuri was wiping down the countertops. He couldn’t shake the worry, it was there, simmering underneath his uppermost thoughts no matter how many different things he tried to think about.

A [song](https://youtu.be/IH0fjhuMvIU) was playing on the radio, light and airy with bluegrass notes, but had now transitioned into an island-tinged, calypso sound. Yuuri felt a tap on his shoulder. He turned and Victor was smiling, placed his arm across his waist and made a bow, and then held his hand out. “May I have the honor?”

Yuuri looked up at Victor, smiled, remembering, and the tension broke. He took his hand. “You’re nuts.”

“So I have been told. Humor me.”

Victor placed his hands on Yuuri’s waist, drawing him close. Yuuri stretched his arms up, encircling his neck.

And they danced.

At one point, Victor lifted Yuuri up and spun him, the towel Yuuri was holding flying out of his hand as he laughed. As the song wound down, and another song started playing. Yuuri pulled Victor closer, and they wound down as well, hands clasped at their sides, bodies close. Yuuri put his head on Victors shoulder, and they swayed.

“Yuuri I need to ask you something.” Victor’s voice rumbling in his chest, making Yuuri feel comforted and safe.

“What?” Yuuri asked, his voice quiet and happy, content to keep his head right there.

“I guess it’s more I need to _show_ you something, _and_ ask you something.” He moved to pull away, and Yuuri brought his arms around Victor’s waist, making small sounds of protest.

“Noo, just stay here.”

He felt/heard the rumble of Victor’s low chuckle.

“ _Solnyshka_ , come over here.” He led Yuuri over to a chair, and made him sit. Victor crouched down beside him, and pulled a small box out from his pocket, and placed it in Yuuri’s hand. dIt was tiny, blue, and lightly worn around the edges. Yuuri looked from the box to Victor and back.

“What’s this then?”

Victor said simply, “Open it and see.”

Yuuri brought the box up closer, and slid the lid off the top.

Inside were two rings. Golden; simple. These rings had obviously been treasured, as they were polished and shining, sitting on a soft small bundle of blue cloth.

Yuuri blinked, drawing his brows together. He tilted his head and looked up at Victor.

Those blue eyes shining with tears, hope, and love.

“These aren’t-“

“The very same.”

Yuuri’s vision doubled as the tears came, and he couldn’t speak.

_All these years. Kept them all these years. Kept them safe._

“I think it is time we put them back where they belong, don't you?”

“Victor, you don’t know, we don’t know-“

Victor put his finger to Yuuri’s lips, stilling him. He looked down at the box, and delicately picked one up, holding it between his thumb and forefinger. He looked at Yuuri. 

“It doesn’t matter.” He picked up Yuuri’s right hand, and put the ring on his finger.

“A long time ago, we lost this. We let it slip away. Never again.  I don’t intend to waste any more time away from you. And I will love you for as long as _I_ live. Do you understand?” He bent his head and kissed the ring. “ _Ya khochu byt' s toboy vsegda.”_

Yuuri pulled his hand out of Victors grasp, took the other ring out of the box, and clasped Victors right hand with his trembling ones. He placed it on Victor’s finger, and pulled the hand to his lips, kissing it and then held Victors hand to his cheek.    _Forever._ Yes, Yuuri thought that sounded right. 

***** 

“Doctor Patel’s office, this is Delilah.”

Yuuri squeezed Victors hand, and he squeezed back.

“Hi Delilah, it’s Yuuri, calling for the doctor?”

“Hello Yuuri. He is waiting. I am going to ring you through.”

_No matter what. No matter what._

Yuuri closed his eyes and tried to breathe calmly.

“Hello, Yuuri.”

“H-hello Doctor.”

“Look, I don’t want to make you wait any longer, so, I have reviewed this set of tests and it looks really good, Yuuri. Really good.”

“Good as in, I’m clear?”

“It appears so. Yuuri.”

_YesyesYES!_

Yuuri’s thoughts exploded with gratefulness and joy.

“I am very optimistic. The tests are pointing to remission.”

Yuuri leaned his head back, relief washing over him, then then looked at Victor, who was smiling back.

“Now, having said that, I need for you to talk to Delilah and set up another visit in two weeks. We are going to run more tests just to make sure we have missed nothing. I am also going to be sending over directions for any further medications. I don’t have to go into details right now, you know how this works.”

Yuuri couldn’t speak, nodding. He cleared his throat. “Yes I know.”

“And Yuuri?”

“Yes, Doctor?”

“I couldn’t be happier to give you this news. Do you have any questions right now?”

“No, none that I can think of.”

“Okay. Do call and let us know if you do. Please contact Delilah in the next couple of days to set up that appointment. I will talk to you then.”

“Thank you Doctor Patel. Thank you _so much_.”

Yuuri rang off, dropped the phone on the table.

The doctor could have said anything, in any language, after ‘remission’ and it wouldn’t have mattered, this is what he needed to hear.

He felt like he could fly, if only he had wings.

Victor stood and pulled Yuuri up by the hands.

Victor held his arms out, eyes filled with relief and shining with love.

He thought of a hummingbird, borne aloft on swiftly beating wings and iridescent feathers, its very delicacy suggesting it impossible that it could be suspended in midair, above a beautiful golden-petaled flower. Its beak touched the middle of the bright soft petals, and its wings singing, finding what it had been seeking at long last. 

And Yuuri stepped into Victors arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we are almost to the end of our story-  
> There is one more chapter to go. 
> 
>  
> 
> Notes:  
> One of the things you have probably noticed is that though this is a future fic, it is using now or recent-past technology. This is because although I am quite a fan of sci-fi, I am not writing that particular genre, and I didn't want to create distractions from the story. 
> 
> Part of this story is inspired by a real-to-life couple. Unfortunately there story did not end happily, so happy endings, in my opinion, are essential in fiction. 
> 
> Thank you for reading, and as always please do leave comments, I love to read them.


	9. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A small time jump to a happy ~~ending~~...beginning.

## Epilogue…Saturday

Katya smiled, watching the nervous groom fix his tie for the hundredth time, or at least that is what it seemed like to her.

He fidgeted with his lapel, looking in the mirror.

“Katya-chan, what do you think? Good?” Yuuri turned from the mirror, one hand hovering over his tie, the other rising to his forehead. Katya jumped out of the chair she was currently occupying and pulled Yuuri’s hands down, then clasped them.

“Do NOT touch your hair. It’s perfect and you’ll muss it.” She smiled, squeezed his hands. Yuuri relaxed a bit, smiled down at her. “But that tie, um...” Katya bit her lip. She would rather walk on her lips than insult Katsuki-sama’s taste.

“Oh, this tie is for Vitya. It’s very like another I owned once, and it’s a surprise.” Yuuri’s shoulders relaxed and his eyes danced. Katya smiled back, happy that her uncle’s worries were lessened.

There was a knock on the door, and Yurio poked his head in, a harried look on his face. “Katsudon, are you ready? Still primping?” He smirked.

Katya and Yuuri laughed, and Katya said, “He’s ready. Almost.”

She motioned for Yuuri to bend down, and then pinned a small golden bud to his lapel. She patted it, and Yuuri straightened, looked in the mirror again and patted the flower as well.

“Now he’s ready.”

Yurio nodded, looking satisfied, was about to speak again when he was unceremoniously pulled back out of the door jamb by Mari. Yurio poked his head back in, glared at Mari and then said, “It’s going to be starting soon so just be ready. At least you are calm Katsudon. You should see Vitya! He’s a mess. I’ve had to listen to him go on for the past hour about the flowers, the cake, the ceremony, his hair, the reception. Ugh.” He left, presumably to go help Victor keep it together.

Mari hugged Yuuri. “You look great.” She smiled and reached over to take Katya’s hand. “His hair looks great Katya. Good job.”

“Thanks. Although, I didn’t do much. Uncle Yuuri just looks gorgeous, period.”

Yuuri blushed, and chuckled. “It’s life and love that makes me look this way, Katya. Life, and love. They are the most important things to remember.” He held up his hand and made the L sign, closed his hand and made it again. This delighted her; and she thought maybe that wouldn’t be too bad of a goal. Life and Love.

Yuuri smiled and hugged his niece, then his sister. “Okay. I’m ready.”

*****

The ceremony was held outdoors, a sunny lovely autumn day with the leaves just starting to gain their colors of red, orange and gold, but still warm as if it were late summer. Katya watched the couple walk down the aisle together, and couldn’t help but hope something such as this for herself someday. As Victor and Yuuri said their vows, she looked to her left in dismay at her papa as he sobbed into her father’s shoulder. She took his hand and held it tight; Katya knew that her papa was a marshmallow inside, even though he put up a tough front.

She also knew afterwards if anyone mentioned this to Yurio they would be on the receiving end of a loud diatribe of Russian cursing and denials, and she was right, as Victor had taken every opportunity to tease Papa about this.

Later, at the reception, the garden was lit up by lanterns and twinkling lights, with flowers absolutely anywhere there was a space to hold them. There were chairs and tables scattered informally around a dancing area, and a table set up especially to hold pictures of the couple. There were a handful of them, but  she especially admired the one of them sitting on a bench together. She marveled at how young they had looked, and happy. It was good to see them as happy now as they were then.

Katya sat down in a chair, her legs pulled up to her chest as she watched their family and friends dance, laugh, or tease and hug the newlyweds. Uncle Yuuri was still the best dancer she had ever seen, and the way he and Victor held and spun each other was so sweet, she could watch them dance for ages.

There was a whisper in her ear, _“Why aren’t you dancing?”_ and she turned her head to see someone leaning over, eyes sparking and a playful smile. Stephan had blue eyes, coal black hair, and had made his debut in the senior level this past year and had ranked in the top three. He was also an extremely popular skater; a darling of the press and had a very large fan base that was only growing larger as he had marched through that season fearlessly garnering medal after medal. A sunny and kind person who treated everyone as if they were his friend. Her Father had said once ‘Stephan has never known a stranger’ and she thought that fit him perfectly. Katya often thought he could also be dangerous, in that when he listened to you speak, he made you feel as if you were the most important person in the world. Normally she was very shy and did not speak much, but she could speak easily with Stephan. He was nothing like his father, of course. Her Papa said that Stephan’s father was a blowhard and arrogant; Katya’s opinion wasn’t that harsh, thinking Stephan’s father could be loud and thoughtless, but she didn’t mind him much as he seemed to like to talk and she would prefer to listen. Thank goodness Papa liked Stephan and didn’t hold his father against him.

Katya was pretty sure if Stephan Leroy asked her to dance she would melt. Dissolve into absolutely nothing but a girl-shaped puddle.

She always felt so awkward about things like this, and wished she had the confidence of her Papa, or Uncle Yuuri. They were unflappable, and when Katya had mentioned this to her uncle he had chuckled and shook his head. “I am not as confident as you think; and at your age I definitely wasn’t. Just remember to be yourself-and let people in, Katya, they will surprise you.” She had her doubts about that, but remembered what he said just the same.

She hid when Phichit pulled everyone together for a group selfie-but Stephan found her behind the shrubbery, and coaxed her to come out for it. As they all stood together and smiled up at the phone held high on the stick, Stephan pulled her against his chest to stand in front of him, putting his chin on top of her head (easily done as he was tall and she was small). He put one arm around her, lightly, sending her brain into a whirl of fluttery thoughts. He whispered in her ear, “Smile.”  He held his fingers of his free hand out in a V to the camera. She leaned back against his chest, this action made such a feeling shoot through her, like a firework; like a current. At the last minute, she put her fingers up in a V as well. 

The next song started playing and she started to walk back to her chair, when Stephan caught her hand. She looked back over her shoulder to see him smiling, blue eyes laughing and brow cocked up in a question. “Want to dance?”

She only nodded, afraid that if she spoke it would be to say something incredibly dumb. He pulled her to him and put his hands on her waist. She hesitantly put her arms about his shoulders and they began to sway. He steered her around the floor, occasionally looking down at her and smiling. For her part she just tried to not hold him too tight, willing her arms to relax, and being mindful not step on his shoes. As they swayed, his arms moved to hold her closer, making her breath hiccup in her chest for a moment, and her eyes came to rest on her uncle. He was dancing with Victor, who was speaking softly to him in his ear, inaudible, but it must have been something her Uncle really liked to hear as he was flushed and smiling. Yuuri’s eyes met hers, and his smile became bigger. He held his hand up just a bit and flashed an L, followed by another one.

She signaled the L's back to him, and put her head on Stephan’s shoulder, closed her eyes and smiled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here we come to an end.  
> Or really, it's a beginning, depending upon how you look at it.   
> The [ title](https://youtu.be/uiVav5nBmOE) of this story is from a song that inspired me to write this story.  
> Thank you so very much for reading, I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I did writing it.


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